Broken Arrows
by Livin4Jesus
Summary: Released on parole, Henry returns to Hope Valley. Why? Not even he is sure. To prove he's changed? To try to atone for what he's done? Because he has nowhere else to go? Or could it be for another reason entirely? Henry/Abigail.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So this is a bit of a departure from what I usually write. There's not a superhero in sight! But I love _When Calls the Heart_ , especially this past season and the recent Christmas episode. Which means, WARNING: if you are not completely caught up with all of season 4 and the season 5 Christmas episode, THERE WILL BE SPOILERS IN THIS STORY! But no spoilers for the rest of season 5.**

 **First, I want to say, I love Frank (as you'll see by how I write him in this story), but, sorry Abigail/Frank shippers, her interactions with Henry this past season were just so compelling, especially with the redemption arc added to it. Now, of course, there's no telling what will happen this next season, but that's what fanfiction is for! However, upon looking, I couldn't find any Abigail/Henry stories anywhere. So, naturally, I decided to write my own. So, here we go. I hope you guys enjoy it! :)**

 **Broken Arrows**

As Henry Gowan stepped off the stagecoach in Hope Valley, all he felt was uncertainty.

Of all the places he could have gone after being paroled, Hope Valley shouldn't have even made the list, let alone been the one place he'd headed straight for.

Why had he come back here? It wasn't like there was anything left for him. He had no job, and everyone hated him. It probably would have been better for him to go somewhere else, somewhere new where no one knew who he was, or, more importantly, who he had been. He could have started over. But no, he'd come back here.

Why? Because he wanted to prove something to the people of this town? To show them he'd changed? Or maybe to atone for everything he'd done to them?

Or maybe it was simply because this was his home and he had nowhere else to go.

And wasn't that a sad, pitiful reason?

He moved to the back of the coach to pull down his own luggage while the coach driver finished unloading the other two passengers' bags. He'd arrived with a young man and woman who had recently been married and were coming to Hope Valley to visit family in town for the week. He hadn't exactly asked for the information, but they had wanted to strike up a conversation, and, where he would have tried to shut them down before, he no longer wished to be known for such rudeness, so had listened politely and returned the conversation in a very vague way to avoid telling them about his recent incarceration. Somehow, he thought that might put a damper on the ride.

With a nod of thanks to the coach driver, Henry moved back around the coach with the intention of heading straight for his house, which he hadn't even seen in nearly a year. It was October now, only a few months shy of a full year since he'd last been in Hope Valley, back when he'd been allowed to return for Christmas. It could have easily been longer, though.

Thanks to Bill speaking on his behalf, turning state's evidence, and good behavior, he'd gotten off fairly light, really. Only a little over a year and a half of prison time. Even so, he was looking forward to settling back into his home again as a free man.

Well, mostly free.

He only made it two steps when he was pulled up short by the sight of Bill and Jack standing on the platform.

"Henry!" Bill called when he saw him. "Welcome back." He stepped forward and offered his hand.

"Thank you, Bill," Henry said with a slight smile as he set down his bags and shook the man's hand. He glanced over Bill's shoulder where Jack was standing and met the Mountie's eyes.

"Henry," Jack greeted with a nod, neither friendly nor unfriendly.

"Jack," Henry nodded in return. "I'm glad to see you back from the Northern Territories."

Something flashed in Jack's eyes. Surprise? Curiosity? Henry wasn't sure.

"Yeah, a couple of months now," he said, almost hesitantly, as if he wasn't sure what to make of Henry showing any kind of interest or concern for another person. Henry supposed that was justified.

"We've been expecting you," Bill said.

Henry furrowed his brow. He hadn't contacted anyone in town. "How-"

"We were notified by Mountie HQ."

Henry's confusion cleared. "Oh, right."

When he was released, he'd had to tell the prison officials where he was planning to go. Of course, they had wired ahead. The conditions of his parole demanded that, since he'd told them he was going to Hope Valley, he had to report to Bill and Jack as the two lawmen in town, and that he stay in Hope Valley for the duration of his six-month parole.

If he hadn't shown up, or if he left now, without informing at least one of them where he was going and gaining their permission, it would violate his parole and he could get sent back to prison.

Henry felt himself deflate slightly, not realizing until just that moment that some small part of him had felt hopeful at Bill and Jack's presence, thinking maybe he wouldn't be a total outcast here. But this wasn't a social call. It was just them doing their jobs. Well, at least they weren't hostile toward him while doing it. And Bill seemed almost friendly. He'd take what he could get, he supposed.

"So, do I need to fill out some kind of paperwork or something? Or does this qualify as reporting to you two?" Henry asked, his voice sounding defeated even to his own ears.

"No, this counts," Bill said. "But we do have to go over all of the rules and terms of your parole at some point."

Henry nodded, _really_ looking forward to that meeting. He sighed. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

"Maybe in a few hours?" he suggested. After he'd had a chance to get something to eat, at least?

"That'll be fine," Bill said. "We know you're probably ready to get settled back into your home after the trip so we'll let you get to it."

"Thanks, Bill," he said softly as the two men took their leave.

Then he began the slow, depressing journey to his house, the stares and glares following him as he limped along.

His gait was only a little uneven now, the limp not nearly as pronounced as it had once been, but it would always be with him. While his leg had healed fairly well, his knee would never fully be right again, and every step would always be accompanied by the slightest twinge of pain and weakness. Just another punishing reminder of his transgressions.

He ducked his head slightly, wishing he could hide from the eyes on him. He'd known it was stupid to come back here. He'd known what he would be facing, and yet, he'd done it anyway. He deserved their anger and mistrust. He'd only ever hurt the people of this town for his own gain. They had a right to hate him.

He sighed pathetically. He never should have come back here.

"Henry?"

He stopped in his tracks, his head snapping up.

"Abigail," he said softly.

"Bill told me you had been released and were coming back here, but I didn't know you were arriving today," she said as she approached him with a warm smile. "It's good to see you."

When she reached out and gently squeezed his arm, something in his chest fluttered briefly. Relief maybe? Gratitude? He wasn't sure.

"It's good to see you too, Abigail," he said. "Honestly, it's good to see anyone who isn't glaring at me."

Abigail's smile turned slightly sad. "You're going to have to give them time. There's... a lot of history there."

"You don't have to soften it," Henry said. "I know what I've done, and they all have a right to feel the way they do. I've hurt a lot of people over the years."

"And you've paid for it," she returned. "As far as I'm concerned, it's a clean slate."

"Thank you for that, Abigail. I really appreciate it."

She smiled that kind, almost fond smile that had so rarely been directed at him that it still took him by surprise when he saw it.

"You must be hungry after your trip," she said. "Come by the cafe. Dinner is on the house."

"I can't ask you to do that, Abigail."

"And you didn't. I offered," she said. "It's your first day back. That calls for celebration."

"But-"

"No arguing. It's already decided," she said with a warm smile. "I'll see you in about an hour?"

"That'd be great," Henry agreed, truly touched. "Thank you."

Maybe coming back here wasn't such a bad idea after all.

 **)()()(**

"Did I hear right?" Elizabeth asked as she practically burst through the back door and into the cafe kitchen. "Is Henry Gowan back?"

"That he is," Abigail confirmed. "I saw him, myself, a little while ago."

"Jack told me he was supposed to be coming back..." Elizabeth shook her head. "I just can't believe he actually came back here."

"Well, where else would he go?" Abigail asked.

"I don't know," Elizabeth said sarcastically. "Maybe to a town he didn't steal from."

"Elizabeth Thatcher!" Abigail cried. "I never would have believed this of you."

"Well, after everything he's done-"

"I wasn't aware your Bible said it was okay to hold grudges, because mine says we're supposed to forgive people," Abigail returned, cutting her off.

Elizabeth had the good grace to look a little sheepish. "You're right," she reluctantly admitted.

Abigail sighed and reached out to squeeze her arm. "I know there's a lot of bad blood where he's concerned, but I've seen good in him and he's changed quite a bit since he was arrested. I'm just asking you to give him a chance before you make up your mind about him. I think you'll be surprised."

Elizabeth looked less than convinced but nodded slightly. "Okay. I'll give him a chance."

"Thank you," Abigail said.

 **)()()(**

After making it back to his house and unpacking, Henry had spent about an hour just soaking it all in. He hadn't stepped foot inside his home since before he was first arrested, and it was really nice to be back.

Once he felt more settled and somewhat rested from his trip, he left his house and headed for the cafe as he'd promised Abigail he would.

He hadn't made it far when he, slightly lost in thought, collided with someone.

Stumbling, he reached out and latched on to the boy's arms to keep him from tumbling to the ground.

"Sorry about that, Cody. Are you all right?" Henry asked, letting him go once he was sure the boy had his feet back under him.

Cody nodded. "Sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going, Mister Gowan."

Henry chuckled slightly. "Well, neither was I. So you're in good company."

The boy smiled and relaxed a bit. "I didn't know you were back in Hope Valley."

"Got back today," Henry confirmed.

"I heard Sheriff Avery tell Mom last week that you were coming back. Welcome home!"

"Thank you, Cody," Henry said with a smile.

The two of them fell silent and Cody stared at him for a moment, shifting slightly and clearly wanting to say something. Henry waited, feeling slightly uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

As another moment passed by and the silence stretched, Henry finally ventured, "Is something wrong, Cody?"

"Oh, no," the boy said with a shake of his head. "I just..." he shifted again and shrugged slightly. "I just wanted to say thanks again for helping Becky make it home in time for Christmas last year, Mister Gowan."

Henry smiled softly. "You are very welcome Cody, but you can call me Henry."

The boy thought about it for a moment before nodding with a smile. "Okay. Thanks, Mister Henry."

Henry couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Are you on your way home?"

"Yeah," Cody sighed. "I have homework."

Henry chuckled. "Well, I was just heading that way myself. Mind if I walk with you?"

"Sure," Cody agreed easily.

"Just think of it this way," Henry said as they began walking. "The sooner you finish your homework, the sooner you can go play with that dog of yours."

Cody cocked his head slightly, his expression awed as if discovering some profound revelation. "I never thought of it like that. Thanks, Mister Henry!"

Henry grinned at the boy and patted him on the back. "You're welcome, Cody."

Several moments of silence passed between them as they walked toward the cafe. "So, how is your sister doing?" Henry asked.

"She's good," Cody replied easily. "She's away at school right now. I really miss her, but she writes a lot."

"Well she should be home on break before too much longer, right?" Henry asked.

Cody looked at him with some surprise that he'd known that. "Yeah, I can't wait!" he said.

As they reached the cafe, Cody headed toward the back door. Henry followed him, and the two of them stepped into the kitchen to see Abigail at the stove and Elizabeth nearby as the two women talked.

"Hey, Miss Thatcher!" Cody greeted.

"Hello, Cody," she returned with an easy smile before her eyes moved to Henry, and her expression became somewhat more tense.

"Welcome back, Mister Gowan," she said, the words stiff but not entirely unfriendly.

"Thank you, Elizabeth," he said with a slight nod as he closed the door behind him. "I appreciate that."

She turned to Abigail. "I have to get going," she said lightly. "I'll see you later."

Abigail shared a heavy look with her that Henry didn't understand the significance of. "Remember what I said."

"I will," Elizabeth agreed with a nod.

Abigail smiled warmly, with a grateful nod. "See you."

As Elizabeth turned toward main cafe area, she paused to look back at him again. "It was nice to see you again, Mister Gowan," she said.

"You too, Elizabeth."

Then she slipped out of the kitchen, and, moments later, disappeared through the front door.

"All right," Abigail declared, looking at her son. "I have it straight from the source that homework was given out today. Now, I don't want to hear any arguing or stalling-"

"Sorry, Mom," Cody cut her off, heading for the stairs, "can't talk. I have to get my homework done."

Abigail gaped at him. "Who are you and what have you done with my son? You never volunteer to do your homework."

The boy paused on the bottom landing of the stairs and turned back to her. "Well that was before I realized that the sooner I finish, the sooner I can play with Dasher."

Abigail scoffed incredulously. "And just how did you arrive at this revelation?"

"Mister Henry," the boy tossed over his shoulder as he bounded up the stairs.

Mouth still hanging open, she turned toward the man in question.

He shifted uncertainly. "We ran into each other on the way here and started talking. He wasn't looking forward to doing his homework so I just said..." his rambling trailed off and he shrugged hesitantly, as if he suddenly wasn't sure that he should have even talked to her son.

Abigail smiled softly at him. He was so different now, so unsure, trying to find his footing again and figure out what the status quo was for him now. She was glad he was changing for the better, but wished it didn't have to be so hard for him along the way.

She shook her head, amused. "I can't tell you how many times I've tried telling him that, but what do I know? I'm just the mom."

Henry chuckled slightly.

"Seriously, though, thank you, Henry," she said.

He looked away shyly. And when had he become so shy? This was not the same arrogant, domineering man this town had known. Not in the slightest.

"I didn't do anything," he protested, sounding almost self-deprecating in the process. "It was just an offhand comment."

He just looked so... pitiful wasn't the right word, because she didn't pity him. She refused to do that to him. But he just looked so... She suddenly just wanted to reach out and hug him.

"You don't know how much help you've been," she said. "At least five minutes of arguing and stalling and moaning just went out the window with just one comment from you. So, thank you."

"You're welcome," he said, seemingly, more for lack of anything better to respond with, than because he thought he deserved the thanks.

Wishing she could say something more to convince him, but knowing it would only make him more uncomfortable and still not persuade him, she decided to change the subject instead.

"Mister Henry?" she asked with a laugh.

Henry shook his head and chuckled, relaxing with the shift in topic. "I asked him to call me Henry. He came up with the 'mister.'"

She laughed. "That sounds like him, all right. Well, why don't you have a seat, Mister Henry," she teased as she nodded toward the far end of the kitchen table.

He pulled off his coat and draped it over the back of his chair before sitting down.

"What'll you have?" Abigail asked.

"Oh, I'm not particular, Abigail," Henry said.

"Come now, Henry. Since when are you not particular?" she said with an eyebrow raised, but amusement shining in her eyes.

He grinned. "With everything else, sure, but never with your cooking."

"Says the man who's been living off prison food."

Henry laughed outright for the first time in... He honestly couldn't remember. But leave it to Abigail to be able to make him feel better than he had in a very long time.

"You got me," he teased back. "Seriously, though, you're offering me a free meal. It's only fair you get to choose it."

Abigail pursed her lips for a moment.

Something deep in his chest reacted to the expression, but it was gone so quickly, he couldn't identify it.

"All right," she agreed. "I'll surprise you then."

"Perfect," Henry agreed easily.

They lapsed into silence as Abigail began moving around the kitchen. He watched her pull out pans and begin cooking meat while preparing different vegetables.

It was mostly comfortable for a time before Henry began to feel the need to say something. As much as it didn't bother him to simply sit there and watch her move confidently around the kitchen, he realized it might seem a bit uncomfortable or, heaven forbid, creepy, to an outside viewer.

"So... how has everything been going for you since I last saw you?" he asked, almost wincing at the borderline prying question. He couldn't think of what else to say.

"It's been really great, actually," she said. "Cody's doing well in school and Becky writes often and comes home when she can. Thankfully, she hasn't gotten trapped at any more depots," she said with a teasing smirk.

He smiled at the reminder. "I'm glad. Somehow, I don't think the detention center would have let me out on a day trip to go get her," he teased in return.

Abigail chuckled. "I'm still grateful to you for that, Henry," she said.

He shook his head, waving her off. "Ah, I was glad to do it."

"Still," she insisted. "You risked a lot to help us. We'll always be grateful."

"So, are you still mayor?"

He really hoped that didn't sound as much like he was asking for personal reasons as he thought it might. He truly had no designs on the mayor's office anymore. He wanted nothing to do with that kind of power. First, running a mining operation, then, the town? That kind of authority over others had corrupted him time and time again. Now that he was finally getting his head back on straight, he wanted to avoid going down that road again.

"I am," Abigail said with a smile. "And I think I've finally found a balance between that and the cafe and being a mom."

"I never doubted you would," Henry said honestly. "This town is very lucky to have you as mayor, Abigail. The kind of mayor it deserves."

Abigail smiled softly. "Thank you, Henry. That really means a lot coming from you."

Henry wasn't so sure about that, but appreciated the sentiment anyway.

The conversation shifted into mostly stilted small talk with long pauses. Why did he always seem to have so much trouble talking to her like a normal human being? It was as if, every time he opened his mouth, what came out wasn't at all what he'd intended to say, and he usually ended up either saying the wrong thing or phrasing it the wrong way, making a complete mess of it all.

He had his moments when he was actually able to say what he meant to, but talking to people felt so awkward to him now. He'd been in the habit of speaking solely by snapping, insulting, and threatening for so long, that he'd forgotten how to converse with anyone on an equal, friendly, person-to-person basis, and it seemed to be even harder with Abigail, for some reason.

He was hoping, now that he was back in Hope Valley, it might start getting easier. Prison wasn't exactly conducive to practicing his people skills.

All of these thoughts, however, were completely derailed as Abigail finished cooking and walked over to him, plates in hand.

As she set the food in front of him, something inside him couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry as filet mignon, mashed and baked potatoes, and corn fritters were arrayed before him.

"And there's a piece of pie for you when you're done with that," Abigail said softly.

Henry looked up at her and something, his heart?, stuttered for the briefest moment at the impossibly gentle smile on her face.

He cleared his throat, valiantly pushing back his emotions before he could embarrass himself by doing something horrifying, like choking up or actually crying.

"Thank you," he said softly, the meal suddenly meaning even more than it already had.

When she reached out to briefly rest her hand on his shoulder in response, his heart actually seemed to leap into his throat for a single beat. Then she was turning away from him, and his heart rate returned to normal.

What was wrong with him, all of a sudden?

Shaking his head slightly at himself, he dug heartily into his food.

He honestly wasn't sure if it was so good because he'd been living off prison food for so long, or if there was another reason entirely why it was the best food he'd ever tasted in his life.

* * *

 **A/N So that's Chapter 1. I'll let you know now, this isn't going to be a short, quick little story. There's quite a bit more to come. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! And I hope to have the next one up later this week.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thank you so much to everyone who has taken an interest in this story!**

 **Just a quick note, if any of my descriptions of the town are off, please excuse me. I tried to pay close attention to the shows so I could keep everything as accurate as possible, but I know I probably don't have it perfect. Also, I've never really been clear on where Henry actually lives, so I just took a bit of creative license and gave him a house.**

 **Chapter 2**

Henry was just finishing his dinner when Cody came downstairs.

"That was wonderful, Abigail. Thank you."

She smiled at him as she turned to her son. "Did you finish all your homework?"

"Yes, ma'am," the boy replied.

"Good," Abigail praised with a smile. "Now sit down and eat. Then you can go play with Dasher," she said as she set a plate on the table to the left of Henry.

Cody dutifully sat down and picked up his fork. "Can Mister Henry come too?" he asked as he started eating.

Henry looked at the boy in surprise. For Cody, being invited to play with his dog was a pretty big honor. Henry glanced at Abigail to see some surprise on her face too.

"If he wants to," she said.

Cody turned to him expectantly. "Will you?"

"Sure, Cody," Henry said. As if he could have said no to that expression, even if he'd wanted to.

"Great!" the boy said with a wide smile.

Twice after that, Abigail had to caution him to slow down as he ate as fast as he could, too excited about "more important" things, to care about food.

The moment he was done, he all but dragged Henry outside to retrieve the dog.

Henry followed the boy as Cody led him and Dasher out of town to a small open grassy area beyond the buildings.

"This is my favorite spot to play fetch with him. It's big enough that I can really throw it for him," Cody said as he chucked the ball out into the small field, the dog instantly taking off after it.

"It's the perfect place for him to really run," Henry agreed.

"You want to throw it?" Cody asked as he pulled the ball out of Dasher's mouth.

Henry shrugged. "Sure."

Cody eagerly handed him the ball. Henry turned it in his hand a couple times before drawing back and letting it fly.

"Wow!" Cody said. "Look how far it went!"

Henry had managed to get it almost to the edge of the tree line. It wasn't all that amazing, really, but it was a decent throw. Cody, however, seemed to think it was one of the best throws he'd ever seen.

"How'd you do that?" he asked.

Henry shrugged. He'd just thrown it, but knew that explanation wouldn't be good enough for the boy. "I used to play some baseball when I was a boy," he said honestly.

"Really?" Cody asked excitedly.

Henry nodded. He hadn't been that bad at it either. But it had been a lot of years since he'd even thought about baseball, let alone played it.

"Would you..." Cody trailed off slightly, looking almost unsure before continuing. "Would you play catch with me sometime?"

"Sure, Cody," Henry easily agreed. He wasn't any kind of amazing baseball player or anything, but catch, he could do. Hopefully.

"Awesome!" Cody crowed as if he'd just been promised the moon.

Cody's happiness was contagious and Henry found himself laughing and grinning as Cody ran and jumped around, playing with Dasher and displaying the tricks he'd managed to teach the dog.

As the sun started to set, Henry reluctantly suggested the boy call it a day, and walked Cody back home.

Most people were starting to head indoors for the day as many of the businesses closed down for the night, but there were still plenty of people out and about to give him disapproving (to put it mildly) looks. He honestly couldn't tell if they were just as vitriolic as they had been before, or if they were somehow worse as people saw him with Cody. What was so wrong with him walking along next to the boy and his dog? He hadn't been convicted of kidnapping. However, he would have thought he had, based on the suspicious, almost threatening expressions he was receiving at the moment.

Doing his best to ignore them, he focused on Cody as the boy chattered on about one of Elizabeth's recent school lessons on the very basic science behind centripetal force, which had apparently helped Cody improve his baseball pitch.

When they finally arrived back at the cafe, Henry felt no small amount of relief to be away from so many gazes.

Once again, Cody entered through the back door, Henry following behind.

"Mom, we're back," the boy announced.

"I can see that," Abigail said, turning from where she had been putting away some newly cleaned plates. "Did you have fun?"

"Yeah!" Cody said excitedly. "And guess what? Mister Henry promised to play catch with me sometime!"

"He did?" she asked, looking at Henry with a slightly raised eyebrow, as if to confirm the truth of that.

"Sure did." Henry nodded, earning him another big smile from the boy.

"Well, that should be fun," she said to the boy, and as soon as Cody wasn't looking, mouthed a "thank you" to Henry.

He smiled easily and nodded, honestly happy to do it.

"I actually have to get going," he said, suddenly remembering another promise he'd made. "I told Bill and Jack I'd stop in." He didn't offer any more details in front of Cody, but could see in Abigail's gaze and slightly sympathetic smile, she knew why he was meeting with them.

"Aw," Cody groaned, actually disappointed.

Henry couldn't help but feel good about that. I'd been a long time since someone had been sad to see him leave their presence.

"What do you say, young man?" Abigail prompted.

"Thanks for playing with me, Mister Henry!" he said brightly.

"You are very welcome, Cody," he returned.

"Thanks, Henry," Abigail said quietly, reaching out to squeeze his arm again.

"Thank _you_ , Abigail," he said, and, somehow, he wasn't just talking about for the food. "Bye, Cody," he called.

"Bye, Mister Henry!"

"Goodbye, Henry," Abigail said with a soft smile.

"Abigail," he said with a nod as he slipped out the door.

 **)()()(**

The meeting with Jack and Bill had been more formality than anything. The two lawmen had outlined all the details of his parole, which the detention center had already done. So it wasn't anything new. Jack was professional, but aloof, while Bill seemed more relaxed and open, but they were both, understandably, all business.

He listened and nodded in all the right places, glad when it ended up being a fairly short ordeal and was able to leave. He'd been in close proximity of bars more than enough to last a lifetime for him. Being back in the jailhouse, even as a willing, free man still brought up some memories he'd rather forget.

All the things he'd done to deserve prison, then all the many other things he'd done to try to keep himself out of prison... He shook his head scornfully. Just living a good, honest life would have taken less work. And would have saved him a car crash, a hospital stay, and a messed-up knee.

How stupid could he have been to try to run away like that? Well, considering he'd been dumb enough to throw in with a snake like Ray Wyatt, the car crash didn't seem quite as bad. And wasn't that sad? He had been so desperate to stay out of prison, he'd first been willing to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, then, later, allied himself with a man willing to commit murder to cover something up.

Well, he'd paid for those decisions, one with prison, the other, almost with his life. And thanks to his knee, he'd always have a reminder of his stupidity.

He snorted derisively.

As if he needed it. Almost every person in this town was a blatant reminder of his past transgressions.

And the way they looked at him...

The suspicious gazes, the mistrust, the anger... When had he started caring about what people thought of him? He shook his head. If he was being honest, he'd always cared on some level, but he'd never cared enough about other people to really let it bother him. Now, he couldn't seem to block it out or stuff it down. Every glare seemed to burn, and every time someone went out of their way to avoid him, it stung like he'd been slapped.

Blinking, he found himself in front of the church. Somehow, he'd managed to walk all the way out there without ever really deciding to do so. But now that he was there...

He slowly climbed the stairs and eased the door open. It was dark inside, but there was enough moonlight that he could find his way up the aisle to one of the front pews. He lowered himself into it and sat there, not really sure why he'd come. Maybe he'd been looking for somewhere he didn't feel quite so guilty or persecuted.

He raised his eyes toward the front of the church, his gaze landing on a large cross hanging there. Was that new? He didn't think that had always been there, but he couldn't be sure. It wasn't like he'd spent just a lot of time here before he'd gone away. And it didn't really matter anyway.

The cross was just in the right place that a shaft of moonlight streaming through the nearby window, landed on it. For the first time since he'd come back, the guilt, self-recriminations, all of the burdens he'd been lugging around, seemed to lift, and he sighed in relief.

He knew why he'd come to the church. In prison, the only book the inmates were allowed access to had been the Bible, and, without much else to pass the time, aside from staring at blank walls, Henry had started reading it. He'd been to church in his life, of course, and knew portions of the Bible, but had never read and delved into it the way he had in prison. It had started as a desperate escape from boredom, but had, eventually, turned into a source of refuge for him.

He felt better when he read it, like he wasn't too broken or too tainted to come back from it all. Like maybe he could receive forgiveness and love, even though he didn't deserve it.

Now, sitting in the quiet, dark church, he felt peace and comfort settle over him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, just soaking up the quiet and escaping all of his other problems, for just a little while. But when he finally gathered himself and decided he should get home and at least try to sleep, the moon was high above, telling him the hour was late. He had to have been in the church for at least a few hours at this point.

As he headed toward his house, he was careful to stay as concealed as possible. He didn't want anyone seeing him out so late. They'd only think the worst of him. Although, if someone did see him, skulking through the shadows wasn't going to do him any extra favors.

Less than a day back and completely innocent, and yet, anyone would think him up to no good out here.

His earlier peace quickly bled out of him as reality cruelly reasserted itself, and self-loathing took the forefront of his emotions. He only had himself to blame. He'd done this to himself. He'd been greedy, cold, and heartless. He'd chased money and power, shunning everything and everyone else whenever it suited him. But guess what? It never made him happy. None of it had ever satisfied him, and now he was here, in this situation, all because of his own stupid hunger for all the wrong things.

He was immensely grateful when he made it through his front door without incident. Not feeling like lighting up his entire house, he simply lit a few candles then started a fire in the fireplace.

Glancing at the clock, he saw it was nearly midnight. He sat in a chair and just stared at the fire for several long moments. He was tired, but didn't feel sleepy.

He huffed humorlessly. He was free now, more or less, was out of prison and back home, and yet he was still all alone and spending his time staring at nothing, lost in thought. Old habits died hard, he supposed.

Another hour passed like this, until Henry finally forced himself to stand, put out his candles, and, leaving the fire burning, headed to his bedroom to fitfully chase sleep for what was left of the night.

* * *

 **A/N I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts. The next chapter will be up sometime early next week, around Monday or Tuesday.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Once again, thank you to everyone who has read or reviewed or shown interest in this story! This chapter is a little on the shorter side, but the next one will be longer.**

 **Chapter 3**

After a night of little sleep, Henry's second day back in Hope Valley passed in a similar manner to the first.

After trying and failing to really sleep, he finally gave up and rose not long after dawn. He spent several hours hold up in his house, fully aware he was hiding, and yet, not caring enough to actually venture out.

However, around mid-morning his stomach made the decision for him, and he hesitantly left his house and made his way toward Abigail's cafe.

Once again, as he walked up the street, people gave him less than friendly looks and went out of their way to avoid him. Feeling more than a little self-conscious, he did his best to ignore them and act like everything was normal. Act, being the key word. Everything was so far from normal it was laughable. He didn't even know what constituted "normal" anymore.

"Henry," a friendly voice called out from behind him.

He turned to see Bill walking toward him and paused to let the sheriff fall into step next to him.

"Morning, Bill," he greeted.

Bill looked at him, almost studying him, for a long moment as they walked. Henry glanced away beneath the scrutiny, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt.

"How are you today, Henry?" Bill asked, the slightest bit of concern in his tone.

"I'm good, Bill. Thanks for asking," Henry replied.

It was mostly a lie, but Bill didn't want to hear him whining about all the mean people staring at him. He wasn't a child, and he wasn't going to start acting like one. He'd made his bed. It was time to man up and lie in it.

"Good," Bill said, but something in his eyes made Henry think the man didn't believe him for a second. "Have you had breakfast?"

"I was actually heading that way now," Henry admitted.

"Great! So was I," Bill said. "I wouldn't mind a little company, unless you already have plans?"

Henry looked at the sheriff in surprise.

"Uh... no. No plans," he said.

"It's settled then," Bill said with a smile.

Henry blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. Yes, he and Bill had been on slightly better terms last Christmas, especially after he'd returned with Becky, but for the man to show open friendliness? Henry hadn't expected that, but deeply appreciated it nonetheless.

Stepping inside the cafe, Henry and Bill removed their coats and sat at one of the tables along the far wall.

Only moments later, Abigail emerged from the kitchen and caught sight of them, making her way over.

"Bill, Henry, good morning," she said with a pleased smile as if she was glad to see them both there.

"Good morning," Bill readily greeted.

"Morning, Abigail," Henry added.

"What'll you boys have?" she asked.

Henry looked at Bill, letting him go first.

"Sausage, eggs, and a cup of coffee, please, Abigail," Bill said.

"I'll have the same," Henry agreed.

"All right, coming right up," she said with another wide smile.

Henry watched her go with a furrowed brow.

"What?" Bill asked, glancing behind himself toward the kitchen before turning back to Henry.

"I thought she was still mayor," Henry said. "What's she doing here?"

"Oh, she usually only goes to the office a couple times a week. The rest of the time she spends here. Most of the day-to-day mayor stuff doesn't require her to be at the office every day and if there's anything major going on, everyone knows where to find her," Bill explained.

Henry nodded. "That makes sense," he agreed.

He briefly glanced around the room. The cafe was mostly empty, the morning rush having already come and gone. Only a couple other people were there and looked like they weren't far from being finished. He was honestly glad of it. Any chance he had to avoid extra eyes on him, he'd take.

He was just turning back to Bill when the front door opened, catching his attention, and Elizabeth stepped into the cafe.

Her gaze absentmindedly roved over the room and caught on them. For a moment, she looked like she might ignore them and continue on her way, but after only a beat of hesitation, she headed in their direction.

"Good morning, Bill, Mister Gowan," she polity greeted.

"Good morning, Elizabeth," Bill returned warmly while Henry nodded by way of greeting. "How are you, today?"

"I'm good, and you?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing to complain about," Bill said easily.

She turned to look at Henry, uncertainty and a tenseness about her. She was trying to be polite and make an effort, but Henry could see she wasn't really sure how to act around him now.

"How about you, Mister Gowan?"

"I'm fine, Elizabeth, thank you," he said with a small smile, trying to put her more at ease.

"I bet you're glad to be back home," she said.

"Yes, very much," he agreed.

A few heartbeats passed in silence that was growing more uncomfortable and awkward by the second.

Quickly searching his brain for something to say, he finally realized that she was there in the middle of the day. He would have thought she'd be at the schoolhouse at this time of morning.

"No school today?" he asked curiously.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow at him. "It's Saturday," she answered, her expression slightly puzzled.

Henry blinked, only just realizing he hadn't actually known what day it was... For that matter, he hadn't actually kept track of the days for quite a while. What day of the week it was didn't matter much in prison. Not when every day was exactly the same as the previous one.

"Right. Sorry," he said with a small shake of his head.

"That's okay," Elizabeth graciously waved it off. "I lose track of the days all the time."

He smiled and nodded gratefully as she and Bill both let his lapse slide.

"Here we are," Abigail announced as she appeared, carefully carrying two plates on one arm with two empty mugs gripped in her hand and the coffee pot held in the other one.

Before anyone else could react, Henry jumped up and helped take the plates from her.

"Thank you, Henry," she said brightly.

"No problem," he answered, handing one plate to Bill and setting the other in front of himself as he retook his seat.

Abigail set the mugs in front of them and poured their coffee.

"Thank you," Bill said.

"Thank you, Abigail," Henry agreed.

"You are both very welcome," she said.

"I'll let you both eat," Elizabeth said, excusing herself. "Bill, Mister Gowan," she nodded at them both.

Henry winced slightly. He absolutely hated being addressed like that now. It brought up too many memories and left a bad taste in his mouth. He hadn't said anything up until now, not wanting to make a big deal out of it, but he just couldn't take it anymore.

"Elizabeth," he called before she could turn away. "Please, call me Henry?" he requested, shifting uncomfortably and unable to meet her eyes as he admitted, "Mr. Gowan is a man who hurt a lot of people, and is someone I'm trying very hard to never become again."

Elizabeth blinked and quickly looked at Abigail, eyebrows raised in surprise. Abigail shrugged slightly, her expression fairly screaming "told you so."

Elizabeth turned back to him, offering up a slight smile as she nodded. "Henry it is then."

"Thank you," he said, meeting her eyes again.

With one last, brief, considering look, she turned and moved to a nearby table.

"You two enjoy, and let me know if you need anything," Abigail said, gracefully not commenting on the exchange and sparing Henry any embarrassment at his somewhat raw admission.

"Thank you, Abigail," he said, once again grateful for more than just the food.

As he looked down at his plate to begin eating, Abigail caught Bill's eye and shared a knowing look with the sheriff before heading back to the kitchen. Anyone who didn't believe Henry had changed for the better only had to spend a few minutes with him to see it.

Bill had started seeing it after he'd first arrested Henry, and even more so at Christmas, but Abigail... she'd seen the potential in him long before any of the rest of them. Bill still laughed at himself a bit when he remembered arguing with her over it when she'd asked him to bring Henry back for Christmas. When was he ever going to learn that Abigail was almost always right?

"So, now that you've been back a whole day, you got the rest of your life planned out yet?" Bill asked with a smirk as he took a bite of his eggs.

Henry chuckled. "Well, I have a pretty good outline for achieving world peace."

Bill laughed. "I'd like to see that."

"For the most part, I'm still trying to figure it out," Henry said seriously. "Obviously, I'll have to try to get a job somewhere, eventually. I'm not looking forward to that," he admitted. "Can't imagine too many people are going to jump at the chance to hire me, especially since what I went away for was stealing money."

"I think you should give yourself a little more credit," Bill said. "I'm sure there are more people than you think in this town willing to give you a second chance."

Henry huffed self-deprecatingly. "I am giving myself credit, Bill. I've done an excellent job burning every bridge I might have ever had in this town."

Bill shrugged. "And mended some too."

"Name one," Henry challenged incredulously.

"Me," Bill said matter-of-fact. "We've been at odds plenty of times over the years, but things have changed. You've changed. It took a lot of time, and, just a couple of years ago, I honestly never would have thought it possible, but..." he looked Henry in the eye, his gaze sincere, "I consider you a friend, Henry."

Wait. What? Henry stared at him in disbelief. He had expected a lot of things when he'd stepped out of his house this morning, but that one hadn't even made the list.

"Thank you, Bill. That means a lot," he finally said.

Bill's smile was somewhat sad at the grateful look on Henry's face at hearing just one person call themselves a friend. "You do have people on your side here, Henry," he assured. "The last time I checked, Abigail wasn't going out of her way to throw you to the wolves, either."

Henry actually smiled at that. "You and Abigail have been really great to me ever since I was arrested."

"By me," Bill added, somewhat teasingly.

"Well, you did me a favor, Bill," Henry admitted honestly. "You gave me the opportunity to finally turn my life around, instead of lifting myself up on the backs of everyone else. I don't know where I would be now if you hadn't caught me."

"Believe it or not, I think you would have found your way again, even if I hadn't managed to find the evidence to send you away," Bill said.

Henry looked away from Bill's gaze. "Maybe," he agreed, but sounded like he didn't believe it at all.

That was okay. Henry was still too close to it all. He couldn't yet see what Bill already had, especially over Christmas.

He took a quick glance at Henry, but the other man wasn't looking at him. Instead, Henry was surreptitiously staring, somewhat absentmindedly, across the room.

Bill unobtrusively followed his gaze and saw Abigail cleaning some plates off a table.

He glanced back at Henry before ducking his head slightly and taking another bite of food to hide his slight, knowing grin.

* * *

 **A/N Next chapter will be up Friday.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The next day was a bit easier. As Henry began to readjust to life, he found it slightly easier to make himself leave his house. The stares and avoidance were still prevalent, but he was starting to get a little more used to it.

For the time being, he didn't have many places to go besides the cafe and church.

That morning had been the first service since he'd been back. He'd waited until almost time for it to start before slipping inside. Everyone was standing and had just started singing, so no one, at first, noticed his presence, exactly what he'd been hoping for. His original plan had been to try to slip into one of the back pews, but as he let the door close behind him, part of him wanted to just stay right there and try to lurk in the shadows at the very back of the church.

Ultimately, as he'd stood there trying to make a decision about what to do (try to find a seat, try to go unnoticed, flee back to his house and bar the doors), his eyes caught on Bill, standing on the aisle end of the right back pew. But more importantly, Bill had noticed him. The sheriff cocked his head, subtly motioning him over.

Seizing the life preserver that it was, Henry stepped over beside Bill as the man moved to give him room. By the time the song finished and they all sat down, almost no one had noticed his presence, only Bill and Frank. The latter of whom, of course, had been facing the doors and seen him enter, but blessedly hadn't shown any outward indication of seeing him so as not to call anyone else's attention to him.

Once the service ended, he'd managed to slip out, just before they were dismissed, resulting in him making it through the entire Sunday service with few noticing him, and no actual encounters with anyone at all, except the brief non-verbal exchange with Bill.

No longer than he'd been back in town, he wasn't too eager to start showing his face in too many places. Food, obviously, was required, and, for him, so was church. So those two places were at the top of his list to frequent. Anything else, he planned to put off as long as possible. He wasn't enough of a glutton for punishment to do otherwise.

At least the cafe felt mostly safe, as long as he avoided the rushes. Abigail treated him like a human being, and Bill had been kind enough to show him friendship the day before. As pleasantly surprised and eternally grateful as he'd been for that, as well as the man's help in church that morning, Henry hadn't expected anything more to come of it.

That was, until, as he was climbing the steps to the cafe, he heard someone call out behind him, and he turned to see Bill approaching.

"Care for some company?" the sheriff asked.

"Sure, Bill," Henry readily agreed. "Thank you for this morning," he said as they entered the cafe.

Inside, it was empty, which, of course, Henry wasn't opposed to.

"Don't know what you mean," Bill said with a small smile as they sat at the same table they had the day before.

Henry nodded to him gratefully, just as Abigail came out of the kitchen, smiling brightly when she saw them.

"Hey, you two," she greeted. "It was good to see you this morning in church, Henry."

He smiled, somewhat self-consciously, and nodded. He wasn't sure if it was his shyness or something else that caused her to rest her hand on his shoulder comfortingly as she asked them what they'd like to eat, but he nearly stalled a bit in answering, just to keep her there a little longer. He didn't, though, promptly giving her his order and feeling somehow bereft as she removed her hand and turned to head back to the kitchen.

He watched her go before turning back to Bill to see another odd look on the sheriff's face. Feeling self-conscious all over again, he was moments away from asking the man about it, when he heard the door open.

Turning, he saw Carson Shepherd enter the cafe.

Henry was about to turn back around when Carson saw them. Rather than head to an empty table as Henry might have expected, Carson smiled and moved toward them.

"Bill," he greeted with a nod before looking at Henry. "Henry, I haven't had a chance to see you since you've been back." He held out his hand. "Welcome home."

Henry stared at him in disbelief for the barest moment, before catching himself and shaking the doctor's hand. "Thank you, Carson."

"Would you like to join us?" Bill offered.

"I wouldn't want to intrude," Carson said as he and Bill both glanced at Henry.

"It's no intrusion," Henry quickly assured. Anyone who was willing to shake his hand and welcome him home was someone he wanted to be around. "Please," he motioned for Carson to join them.

"Thank you," Carson said with a nod as he pulled up a chair and sat with them.

Having heard him enter, Abigail stepped out of the kitchen long enough to ask him what he wanted before disappearing again.

"How have you been, Henry?" Carson asked.

"Pretty good. Glad to be home."

"I bet."

"You know, I have to admit, it's really nice to encounter someone who isn't glaring at me or trying to avoid me," Henry said, unable to stop himself.

"I try to make a habit of not punishing people who have already paid for their mistakes," Carson said sincerely.

"Thank you for that, Carson," Henry said. "I really appreciate it."

"I know what it's like to have a past that haunts you. It's even harder when other people won't let it go either."

Henry nodded. Wasn't that the truth?

After that, the conversation progressed to less serious topics, beginning with some small talk before moving to some of the highlights of what had happened in Hope Valley the last few months as Carson and Bill both filled Henry in a bit on what he'd missed while away.

Their food arrived, accompanied by a warm smile from Abigail, and the conversation died down some as they ate, but not entirely. The three of them continued to chat off and on throughout the meal, the atmosphere casual and relaxed between them.

Henry couldn't believe just how much he enjoyed being around people who actually wanted to be around him. He hadn't known what he'd been missing during all his years of pushing people away with his mistrust and abrasive treatment.

It was not long after they'd finished eating that the sound of pounding feet on stairs could be heard from the direction of the kitchen. Due to the voice he could hear greet Abigail, Henry wasn't surprised when Cody came into view moments later.

The boy was clearly still focused on his mother, but an absentminded glance out into the cafe completely shifted his attention as he spotted the three of them. An excited grin spread across his face and he ran over to them.

"Sheriff Avery! Doctor Shepherd!" he greeted.

"Hey, Cody," the two men replied in unison with matching smiles. The boy's bubbly personality was always so contagious and it was impossible to keep from smiling around him most of the time.

If Henry had been expecting to boy to start chattering away at Carson and Bill, he was quite surprised to find that, beyond his initial greeting, Cody barely glanced at the other two men, his attention fixed on Henry instead.

"Mister Henry!" he said excitedly. "I was just about to take Dasher for a walk. Will you come with me again?" he practically begged.

Bill and Carson looked at each other, their eyebrows inching up in surprise. Neither of them were sure what was more surprising, that Cody had almost ignored them for Henry, had invited the man to walk his dog with him (again, apparently), or the moniker "Mister Henry." Regardless, neither man could completely hold back the amused grins that spread across their faces.

Henry, for his part, was oblivious to the exchange, his undivided attention on Cody, touched that the boy still seemed so eager to spend time with him.

"Sure, Cody." He looked back at Bill and Carson as if only just remembering they were there. "That is, if Sheriff Avery and Doctor Shepherd don't mind excusing me."

Bill nearly started laughing at Henry's use of Cody's names for them, but held it together, not daring to look at Carson for fear of not being able to hold back his laughter.

Cody turned to look at Bill expectantly, waiting for his answer.

"Of course," he said, proud of himself when no amusement broke through his voice.

"Well, we can't keep Dasher waiting, can we?" Carson added as the boy turned to him.

"Yes!" Cody said, throwing his fists into the air. "Come on!" He grabbed Henry's sleeve and all but dragged him out of his chair.

Henry had just enough time to throw some money on the table for lunch, including a sizable tip, before he was being pulled toward the kitchen.

"Bye," he hastily called to them before disappearing into the other room.

Carson and Bill slowly met each other's eyes for a beat before both of them burst out laughing.

 **)()()(**

"Mom! We're going to walk Dasher!" Cody announced as he pulled Henry into the kitchen and toward the back door.

"Hold on, young man," she called, "did Mister Henry agree to this?"

"Yes," Cody answered.

Abigail eyed him, knowing her son had a way about him that made it hard for some to tell him no, before meeting Henry's eyes.

"You don't have to, Henry. I'm sure you're busy," she said, trying to give him an out.

"Oh, no. I want to," he said honestly.

"See?" Cody asked. "So, can we?"

"Well, all right," Abigail agreed with a grin. "You boys have fun."

And with that, Cody was pulling him through the door and outside.

 **)()()(**

Henry had expected the boy to lead him to the same little field as the last time they'd walked Dasher, but, this time, as they left town, Cody kept walking.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"I like to take Dasher and walk down to the river sometimes," Cody said. "He likes to drink out of it and sometimes he barks at the fish."

Henry narrowed his eyes slightly. "Your mother know you go to the river?"

"Well..."

Henry raised an eyebrow at the boy. "You think maybe that's something you should tell her?"

"I'm always really careful not to get too close to the water," Cody protested.

"I don't believe that's what I asked," Henry said, his voice slightly teasing.

Cody sighed. "Yeah, probably. I usually only go down there when someone's with me, though."

"Usually?" Henry asked.

Cody bit his lip and refused to meet Henry's eyes.

"Sounds to me like that sentence should be, 'I _only_ _ever_ go down there when someone's with me.'"

Cody didn't look happy about it, but nodded, knowing Henry was right. "Are you going to tell my mom?" he asked.

"Nope," Henry said.

"Really?" Cody asked, almost excited.

"Yep," Henry agreed, throwing an arm around the boy's shoulders. "Because you are."

Henry couldn't help but laugh at Cody's slight grimace.

 **)()()(**

After spending a little over an hour walking along the river, talking, throwing stones, and watching Dasher play in the water and bark at fish from the bank, it was time to head back. Neither Cody nor Henry especially wanted to, but Henry worried Abigail might get concerned if they were gone too long.

On the way back to town, Cody fell silent. As much as the boy talked, Henry immediately noticed, but nothing in the child's expression indicated anything amiss. He simply looked thoughtful, so Henry waited him out.

It was as they were finally reentering town that the boy spoke again.

"Mister Henry, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Cody," Henry said, his tone casual, but his attention solely focused on the boy.

No more than he'd been around the boy, he'd already started getting a handle on Cody's more typical mannerisms and traits. Enough to know this line of questioning was going to be different. The boy was a bit too serious, almost hesitant, and was asking permission just to ask his question.

"Why are you limping?" Cody asked as they stepped up onto one of the walkways that ran in front of several of the buildings along main street, Dasher jogging along beside them.

It perhaps wasn't the first thing he might have thought Cody would ask, but he wasn't all that surprised that it had finally come up. Some part of him had been expecting the boy to ask, eventually.

He sighed. "Well, you remember... a little over two years ago, I had that accident?"

"With the car?" Cody asked.

"Yes." He nodded. "I hurt myself pretty bad, especially my knee."

"But that was so long ago," Cody said.

Without really thinking about it, Henry reached out and wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders as they stepped off the walkway to cross the street toward the cafe, glancing both ways to be sure no horses were being ridden toward them.

"Well, Cody," he began, "the body can heal a lot of things, but there are some things it can't. Sometimes people can get hurt badly enough that it never completely heals right."

"So, your leg didn't heal?"

"Well, sort of," Henry said. "It healed as much as it can, but it can't be fixed completely."

Cody's face pinched in confusion. "I don't get it."

Henry though for a moment. "Think of it this way. Say you got your sleeve caught on something and it ripped it clean off your jacket." He ran his finger along the seam where the sleeve was attached to Cody's coat. "Now, all it would need is a needle and some thread and it could be sewn back on like it never happened, right?"

Cody nodded.

"But, imagine you dropped a plate on the floor and it broke. You could pick up all the pieces and glue them back together, but it wouldn't be the same, would it?"

Cody shook his head. "No, it'd have cracks."

"Exactly!" Henry praised. "See, some damage can be fixed, as if it never happened."

As they stepped up onto the walkway on the other side of the street, a few passersby caught Henry's attention, their harsh and judging gazes not easy to ignore.

Causally, he gently removed his arm from Cody's shoulders.

"But there's some damage that, no matter how hard you try, you can never completely fix it," he said sadly. "Some part of it will always be there."

Cody mulled his words over a moment before nodding slowly, oblivious to the eyes on them. "I think I understand now."

"Yeah," Henry sighed softly, all too aware of the harsh, angry gazes still following him. "Me too."

* * *

 **A/N Please let me know what you guys think! Next chapter will be up early next week.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Henry? ...Henry? ...Henry!"

"What?" He snapped out of his reverie and turned to Abigail. He was sitting in the cafe, having just finished his meal and his mind had wandered back to the conversation he'd had with Cody a few days ago, getting lost in it, without him even realizing it.

"I've been calling you. Are you okay?" she asked, looking concerned. "You've just been sitting there, staring at nothing."

"Sorry. Yes, I'm fine," he quickly assured.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, just force of habit." He looked down shyly, staring at his hands as they fidgeted with his half empty cup of coffee.

"Habit?" Abigail asked.

Henry shrugged uncomfortably. "There's not a lot to do in prison. Staring at the wall, lost in thought is one of the more entertaining options. I... don't really notice when I'm doing it anymore."

Abigail looked like she wasn't sure what to say to that, but gave him a sympathetic (thank you, Lord, it wasn't pitying) smile and squeezed his shoulder as she took his empty plate away.

As she moved away, he caught sight of Elizabeth, standing near the kitchen next to Rosemary. They were staring at him, having overheard what he'd said. And their eyes? They were pitying. It was slight, almost covered by sympathy, but it was there. He looked away, concentrating on his coffee cup again.

Would it ever get any easier?

He took a deep breath and dug his thumb and forefinger into his eyes, trying to fight back the headache that had settled behind them, the product of far too little sleep.

Suddenly feeling like he was suffocating, he gulped down the rest of his coffee and laid his money out on the table, leaving a sizable tip as a thank you to Abigail. Of course, she had no way of really knowing, but he was grateful to her, not just for the handful of free meals she had insisted on giving him lately, but also for her kindness and lack of pity. Leaving a little extra money for her was the absolute least he could do.

It was also a bit of an 'I'm sorry' for him all but running out of the cafe without saying goodbye, which was exactly what he did, still feeling Elizabeth's and Rosemary's eyes on him. He didn't hold it against them. They didn't mean anything by it, but he just couldn't stand it.

Stepping outside, he briefly felt like he could breathe again before it began anew. More gazes, more scrutiny and suffocating attention, but not pity this time. Mistrust, anger, even some disgust lashed out at him from seemingly every direction.

Feeling the need to flee, to escape, he headed out of town at a walk that was slow enough to not look too panicked but fast enough to escape the eyes boring into him. It didn't take him long to reach the church and take shelter inside.

Practically collapsing into the front pew, he doubled over and buried his face in his hands, finally feeling like he could breathe again. Strange that he ran there for safety instead of to his own house.

Sitting up and opening his eyes, they once again landed on the cross hanging on the front wall.

Or maybe it wasn't.

"I never expected it to be easy, but I didn't realize just how hard it would be," he murmured.

"Nothing worth having ever is."

Henry jerked around to see Frank standing near the back of the church.

"Pastor..." Henry greeted, shifting slightly, feeling embarrassed for some reason.

"Sorry," Frank said, "I didn't mean to intrude, I just couldn't help overhearing and thought maybe you might want someone to talk to."

Henry huffed slightly. "I kind of already was," he nodded toward the cross on the wall.

"Of course," Frank quickly said, backing away. "I'll leave you to it."

"No, wait," Henry said, drawing the preacher up short. "I didn't mean... If you don't have anywhere else to be..."

Frank nodded and walked toward the front of the church.

Henry moved over, giving the preacher room to sit next to him. The two of them sat in silence for a long moment, Frank waiting to follow Henry's lead and Henry trying to figure out how to verbalize his swirling emotions.

"Everyone in this town hates me," he said softly, "and they have every right to, after everything I've done." He sighed. "I just... I guess knowing it and experiencing it are two different things."

"Forgiveness is one of the hardest things for people to do," Frank said. "Especially if they've been hurt. It's so much easier to hold a grudge. And it's even harder to trust again once it's been broken."

Henry nodded and looked down at his hands in his lap.

"I'm not here to condemn you, Henry," Frank said. "I have absolutely no right to, as a pastor and especially as someone who has been right where you are."

Henry raised his eyes to meet Frank's. He'd honestly forgotten about the preacher's own past, and suddenly felt the slightest bit of hope. If Frank could change and get his life back on track, maybe he could too. At the very least, he had someone who understood, and maybe could be an ally? A source of support in a way that no one else in the town could be?

But Frank was only one person in a town full of people who would not be so forgiving. Defeat washed through him again and he looked away.

"No one believes I can really change," he said. "I know they all think it's some kind of trick, another con."

"When you say they...?"

He looked at Frank. "The town," he said as if it were obvious, which it should have been.

"The whole town?" Frank asked.

"Well, yes," Henry said, feeling confused.

"So, Abigail, Bill, me. We all think you're trying to trick us?" Frank pressed.

Henry nearly rolled his eyes. "Yes, three people in this entire town believe me."

"I think if you really looked around, you'd find that there are more people than you realize," Frank said, thinking of Elizabeth and Rosemary. He knew for certain they didn't hate Henry (he wasn't even sure they were capable of hate), neither did Jack, despite his current mistrust. Carson didn't seem to have any more problems with Henry than Bill did, and Frank was pretty sure Cody had forgiven Henry all his transgressions the moment he'd come riding into town with Becky last Christmas. "But even so," he shrugged, "got to start somewhere. Think of it this way, you could have no allies at all."

Henry had to give that one to the preacher. If he'd had no support whatsoever, no one to talk to or to believe in him, if he'd been left to deal with all of this completely alone... He didn't think he could have done that.

"Fair point," he admitted.

"Things like this, take time, a lot of time," Frank said. "Trust is hard enough to earn the first time around, re-earning it is something else entirely. It's going to take people seeing the change in you, which, again, takes time. You can't just show up, say 'hey everyone, I've changed,' and expect everything to be fine."

"I never expected that. I knew it wouldn't be easy. I knew people here would still have a lot of hard feelings and wouldn't be likely to believe me or trust me easily... I just wasn't expecting the hatred... or the pity." He sighed painfully. "I wasn't expecting to be looked at like... No matter where I turn, I see eyes that either look at me like I'm an abused puppy... or like I'm some kind of rabid animal that might attack at any moment. The way some of them stare... It's like I'm not even human to them."

"I've been there," Frank said, softly. "It hurts."

"Yeah," Henry whispered.

Frank turned toward him and reached out to rest his hand on Henry's shoulder. "You do have friends in this town, though."

"Why?" Henry asked suddenly.

"Why what?" Frank asked.

"Why do you believe me? You of all people know what convicts are usually like."

"Yes, I do," Frank agreed. "I know what it looks like when a man is only pretending to change. And usually, they do a lot of sweet talking, but never own up to anything or apologize. They say all the right things and put on the show, but when the chips are down, their actions default to who they really are. I haven't seen any of those traits in you. Everything you've said and done rings true and genuine. And men who are acting, don't tend to spend a lot of time in places like this," he glanced around the church. "I haven't heard a lot of them talking to the Big Guy either."

Henry huffed slightly in brief amusement.

"You're in the right place, Henry," Frank said softly. "You're going about it all the right way. And I believe you have changed, and are still changing. It doesn't happen often, but I'm proof enough that men can change... especially when their hearts are right with God."

Henry met the other man's eyes, not realizing just how badly he'd needed someone to just say the words 'I believe you.'

"Thank you," he whispered.

Frank squeezed his shoulder. "I'm here for you Henry. Anytime you need to talk. And I mean that not just as a pastor, but as a friend too."

"I really appreciate that, Frank," Henry said. "I need as many of those as I can get these days."

"I know the feeling," Frank agreed. "It will get better," he promised. "You just need time. Keep going the way you're going, keep working at it and you'll start winning them over."

"That easy, huh?" Henry asked, half-joking.

"Oh, no," Frank returned easily. "It's going to be one of the toughest goals you've ever tried to achieve. And some days, it's going to beat you down, chew you up, and spit you out. But it is possible, and if you stick with it, it'll be worth it."

"Well, that was the most joyful pep talk I've ever received. Thank you, Frank," he said dryly.

Frank laughed. "It's what I'm here for."

They lapsed into a brief silence before Henry broke it again. "I think I understand you now in a way I never did before."

"Well, we have a lot more in common now," Frank said with a chuckle.

"You have no idea," Henry said seriously, causing Frank to sober. "When I was still in... Well, you know, there's not much to do."

Frank nodded. "Except read?" he asked softly.

Henry nodded. "At first, it was because I was bored to tears..."

"But then it turned into something more," Frank said.

"Yeah." He paused, looked down at his hands again. "I've been to church before. I know the most common stories, but... It was different in there. I'd never actually read it, and it... Meant more after everything. If that makes sense?"

Frank smiled softly and squeezed his shoulder again. "Henry, it makes all the sense in the world to me."

Henry returned the smile, hesitantly. He was still very new to being open and vulnerable with another person. To show any kind of emotion or weakness. He had believed for so long that to let anyone see beyond the tough exterior was only handing over the very weapons that could bring him down. But now... Everything was different now.

And if he couldn't share this with Frank, of all people, who could he? Frank had lived this, had been exactly where Henry was. There was no one better to confide this to.

"This isn't the first time you've come here since being back, is it?" Frank asked.

Henry huffed a soft laugh and shook his head. "The first night I was back, I ended up in here."

"Do you still have a Bible?"

He shook his head. "I never had one before, and I couldn't take one from the detention center."

Rising from the pew, Frank moved over to the podium that was out in preparation for Sunday service the following morning. Unlocking the door, he reached inside and pulled out a Bible. Closing and locking it back, he retook his seat next to Henry and handed him the book.

Henry looked at him in surprise and slowly took the book. It was old and worn, very well used. He opened it, a stamp inside the cover identifying it as once belonging to Granville Prison. He thumbed through it until he got to the back where his eyes landed on the inscription written there, in a familiar handwriting.

"What..." He met Frank's eyes. "Is this...?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah."

"Frank, I can't take this." He tried to hand it back, but Frank held up his hands, refusing to take it.

"I want you to have it, Henry," He rested his hand on the other man's shoulder again. "This Bible did a lot for me. It's special, and it's meant to be in a special place, where it can do the most good. And that's not with me anymore. It's with you."

"Frank," Henry said, his voice soft, slightly strangled, and his eyes bright. "I don't know what to say... Thank you."

"You're not alone, Henry."

Henry quickly looked away, blinking rapidly. Those three simple words meant so, _so_ much. And even though he knew Frank understood, he still really, _really_ didn't want to completely lose it now.

Frank gently patted Henry's shoulder and stood. "I'll get out of your way, and leave you to it."

And if Henry wasn't about to lose it all over again. Frank even knew well enough to ignore his obvious emotional state and try to give him privacy to collect himself. How had he always managed to discount the preacher as unimportant before? How had he been so laughably blind?

"Seriously, though," Frank added. "I meant it when I said don't hesitate if you need to talk. You really do have friends here. Whether you want them or not."

Henry didn't think Frank could ever completely understand just how grateful he was to him. Raising his head to meet Frank's eyes, Henry let the other man see everything he'd just been trying to hide and push away. Being completely open with him was the only way Henry could think to even begin to convey the true level of his gratitude.

"Thank you, Frank. It means a lot." He smiled softly and held out a hand.

Frank shook it easily, his eyes knowing, as if he really understood. Henry hoped he did.

"Hang in there, Henry."

And with that, the pastor slipped out of the church, leaving Henry alone again.

Sniffing and wiping at his eyes, Henry spent several long moments composing himself and simply absorbing his conversation with the preacher. He found himself feeling less defeated and discouraged than he had when he'd first sat down. He raised his eyes to look at the cross again. He'd come there looking for encouragement and solace... and it had been given to him.

"Thank you," he whispered.

 **)()()(**

Not very long after Henry had left the cafe, Bill wandered in, moving to the kitchen where Abigail was washing some dishes.

"Hey, Bill," she greeted.

He leaned back against the edge of the sink and looked at her. "You've been around Henry some lately," he stated.

She nodded.

"How has he seemed?" he asked

She furrowed her brow. "How do you mean?"

"How's he adjusting?" Bill specified. "At times, he seems to be getting on okay, but then he says or does something..."

"You heard about what happened earlier?" Abigail said more than asked.

Bill nodded. "I overheard Elizabeth telling Jack how he practically fled the cafe. I never figured it would be ease for him here, but..."

"I think he's having a pretty hard time," Abigail agreed with a sigh. "People can be very unforgiving sometimes."

"Yeah," Bill agreed softly.

"He doesn't expect to be handed anything," Abigail said. "In his mind, he fully deserves what he gets, but I also know it's still affecting him."

Bill snorted. "Who wouldn't it affect to have people literally cross the street to avoid you like the plague?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "He won't come out and say it, but I know he's also worried about getting a job. He mentioned something about it the other day. He doesn't think anyone will be willing to hire him, and he's not completely wrong. You know he's going to have a tough time getting someone to take a chance on him like that, whether he's served his time or not."

Bill nodded sadly. He knew she was right. Despite what he'd told Henry earlier in the week, the truth was, it wasn't going to be easy for the former convict to get a job in the very town he'd wronged.

"I know. He basically told me the same thing." He sighed. "I've been working on something, though, an idea I've been kicking around to try to help him on that front... If I can get it to pan out," he amended.

"What is it?" Abigail asked, pausing in her washing to give him her full attention.

"I'm going to ask a friend for a favor."

* * *

 **A/N I really do love Frank, and I'm glad to finally have him make an appearance in this story. He'll be showing up some more as we go along, and so will all of the other main characters, eventually. We're just building up to it. Next chapter, we finally get to see Lee and a bit of Rosemary too. I'm planning on getting that up sometime this week, probably Thursday or Friday, depending on how quickly I can get it ready to go. But until then, let me know what you think! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N The season five premier is this weekend! Who else is excited? Because I most definitely am! I can hardly wait, but in the meantime, a new chapter! I had quite a bit of fun writing this one since I finally get to bring Lee and Rosemary into the story a little bit. They are awesome and I just love them to death! Anyway, as always, thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to leave a review! I hope you guys enjoy! :)**

 **Chapter 6**

"You want me to what?" Lee asked incredulously.

"Offer Henry a job," Bill said.

"And afterward you want me to help you look for your mind, since you've obviously lost it?"

Bill sighed and leaned back in his chair as he looked at Lee sitting behind his desk in the sawmill's main office. He hadn't expected the man to jump up and down with excitement over the idea, but he had hoped for a slightly better reaction.

"Lee, he needs a job."

If Bill could, he'd hire Henry, but with Bill and Jack both on the job, the town didn't need a deputy. Besides, a convicted felon working as law enforcement in a town that didn't trust him? Maybe not the best idea.

"My sawmill is not the only place in town to work," Lee said.

"No, but you are one of the few I actually thought might give him a chance," Bill returned. "I think it'll be good for both of you. You're always talking about how heavy your workload is with all the new business the mill keeps drawing in. You've been talking about needing a manager to oversee everything when you're not around or are too busy, for months now."

"And you want that to be Henry Gowan?" Lee gaped at him. "You want me to trust him with my entire business?"

"I want you to give him a chance," Bill said. "I mean, he's run a mining operation and an entire town. He has the experience for something like this."

"Oh, you mean the mining operation that went belly up after a number of men died, and the town that he stole from? Those aren't exactly glowing recommendations, Bill."

"You don't have to blindly trust him," Bill argued. "You can try him out on a trial basis and keep an eye on him." He sighed. "Think about it. Right now, in this town, people are going to be more likely to bodily throw him out of their places of business than give him a job." He'd hoped Lee might be different.

"And that's my problem, how?" Lee asked.

But maybe not.

"This town is a family, Lee. We're supposed to take care of our own."

"Yes, because Henry Gowan has done such a great job of that in the past."

"That's not fair," Bill chastised.

Lee sighed and visibly deflated. "You're right. I'm sorry."

"Look, Lee, I didn't come here to argue or condemn you..." He shrugged helplessly. "I believe he's changed. He's not the same man who went away to prison. I'm sure of it. And in my book, once a man serves his time, he deserves a second chance until proven otherwise."

"You really think someone like him can change?" Lee asked.

"I do. And so does our pastor if you'll recall," Bill said with a raised eyebrow, alluding not only to Frank's own past, but to the not-entirely-vague sermon he'd given on forgiveness this past Sunday. "In his book, people deserve second, third, and forth chances."

"That's a cheap shot," Lee said, but Bill could see him caving.

"The Bible is never a cheap shot," he said.

Lee sighed. "Fine." He held up a finger. "But, one misstep..."

Bill raised his hands in surrender. He'd gotten a yes. He wasn't about to push it. But he didn't think Lee would have any problems. He just needed a chance to see what Bill, Frank, Carson, and Abigail already had.

"That's up to you."

"Why do I get the feeling that it's actually not?" Lee mumbled.

"Oh, that reminds me," Bill said. "I can call off Abigail now."

"Call off?" Lee asked.

"Yeah, when I told her I was planning to talk to you, she said if you told me no, she'd go to Rosemary and get her to change your mind," Bill said with a grin.

Lee gaped at him. "Now, that _is_ a cheap shot!"

Bill laughed. "Whatever works, Lee."

 **)()()(**

The knock that came at Henry's door was unexpected. No one had visited his house since he'd been back and he wasn't sure whether to look forward to answering the door or dread it.

Marking his place in his Bible, he closed it and set it aside as he got up and crossed the room to the door.

Standing outside his home was Bill and... Lee Coulter? He was actually glad to see Bill, but somewhat confused to see Lee. Now that he thought about it, he'd only seen the man a few times since being back and hadn't even talked to him at any point.

"Hey, Henry," Bill greeted. "Could we come in? There's something Lee wants to talk to you about."

Lee sent Bill an odd look, irritated, or reluctant, maybe?

"Yeah, there's something _I_ want to talk to you about," Lee said, but his tone came out sounding almost sarcastic.

"Um... sure. Come in," Henry said, confusion still his predominant emotion as he moved to allow them to step inside.

Closing the door, he followed them to the living room and offered them seats. Once all three of them were sitting, Henry looked at Bill and Lee expectantly.

Lee shot an unidentifiable glance at Bill, before meeting Henry's eyes.

"I'd like to offer you a job, Henry," he announced without preamble.

"You... What?" Henry asked. Of all the things he might have imagined this conversation to be about, that never would have come close to entering his mind.

Henry wasn't certain, but thought Lee looked like he might have been about to repeat himself in annoyance, but Bill interrupted him.

"Lee..." he sent a quick, sharp look at the man next to him before returning his gaze to Henry, "has a job opening. The sawmill has gotten pretty busy in the last several months and he's swamped." He shot another look at Lee that Henry couldn't quite decipher and the mill owner sighed, turning back to Henry.

"Yes. I could use some help," he said, without much enthusiasm. "It's a managerial position. Basically, you'd be taking some of the load off of me..." He pursed his lips, looking almost bored. "If you're interested," he added as an afterthought.

Well, it wasn't the most welcoming offer, and Henry was almost certain Bill had put him up to it, but he wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. If Lee was willing to extend the offer, even if it was at Bill's insistence (which, Henry would have to thank the man for that later), then the least he could do was accept it. Except...

"Can I think about it?" he asked uneasily.

"Think about it?" Lee asked, his expression making it clear he had not expected anything but a yes and profuse thanks. "What? My mill not prestigious enough for you?"

"What? No!" Henry protested, and he actually looked pained at the suggestion. "I greatly appreciate the offer, Lee, really. I just..." He looked away.

"What is it, Henry?" Bill asked gently.

Henry rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I've managed a mining operation and I've been a mayor, and now you're asking me to help run a lumber mill."

"Yeah," Bill said slowly, puzzled. "We thought it'd be perfect with your past experience. It's right in your wheelhouse."

"That's just it," Henry admitted. He felt exposed, somehow, and vulnerable to be admitting this, but he still forced himself to meet their eyes. "I didn't particularly like the person I was when I had those jobs."

Bill didn't look too terribly surprised by the declaration, but Lee blinked, blinked again, and looked at Bill as if trying to confirm that he had heard that correctly.

Gradually, his surprise settled into understanding as he realized that, yes, Henry Gowan had just admitted that he wasn't a great guy before, while alluding to the fact that he didn't want to become that person again, and yes, he was being sincere.

"I mean, I'd ask for a job as one of your laborers," Henry said, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence. "But with my knee, I don't think I could keep up with the other men well enough to really earn my pay."

Both of the other men blinked at that. Henry Gowan was willing to do manual labor? They had to have heard _that_ wrong. Who was this guy and what had he done with the real Henry?

"Uh..." Lee cleared his throat, trying to find words somewhere in his shocked brain. "Um, well, I appreciate that, Henry, but I'm not going to make you go out and chop down trees. However, the offer of a managerial position stands. I'd be glad to have you." And another shock hit Lee as he realized, he actually meant it.

How had that happened? Lee had initially come into this all but kicking and screaming, and after talking to the man for five minutes, was convinced Henry really had changed and was truly trying to be an upstanding citizen now.

Oh, Bill was going to be insufferable once he admitted that.

"Just think about it, Henry. I don't need to know right this second," Lee said, his entire demeanor friendly and understanding all of a sudden, but, thankfully, not pitying.

"I'll think about it, Lee. Thank you." Henry promised, his gratitude clearly genuine.

After that, the two men took their leave, giving Henry plenty to think about.

As they let themselves out and Bill closed the door behind them, Lee met Bill's eyes, a mixture of understanding, acceptance, and incredulity there.

Bill grinned. "Told you so."

"Shut up, Bill," Lee huffed. "You sound like my wife."

Bill's only answer was to laugh outright.

 **)()()(**

The rest of the day, Lee found himself distracted, thinking about his exchange with Henry. The look on his face, the earnest, raw look in his eyes when he'd admitted that he'd disliked himself before he'd gone to prison... Lee couldn't believe it, but Bill had been right. Henry had changed. That open, pained expression that had been on Henry's face... That couldn't be faked.

When he made it home that evening, his thoughts were still occupied with it. He actually felt kind of sorry for Henry now. He didn't pity him, but he'd seen the way Henry was being treated by the town at large, and Lee was beginning to think he really didn't deserve that kind of prejudice. Yes, he'd hurt and betrayed a lot of people, but Bill was right. He'd served his time, and he deserved a second chance, especially seeing as how he was doing his best to be a better guy.

Everyone, even Henry Gowan, deserved forgiveness, and he deserved to have someone take a chance on him. Lee was bound and determined to be that person.

"Lee?"

He jerked out of his thoughts, only just realizing he hadn't heard a word his wife had said since he'd walked in the door.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he asked, realizing he was halfway through absentmindedly taking off his coat and finished the motion, hanging it up as he turned to Rosemary.

"You haven't heard anything I've been saying," she said, concern lacing her voice. "What's wrong?"

"I... offered Henry Gowan a job today," he said slowly as if he still couldn't believe it himself.

Rosemary's eyebrows flew upward and she immediately demanded all of the details, which Lee provided, amid a flurry of questions.

"See, Lee? I was right about him. I told you I can see people's potential," she said once he was finished with the story.

"You and Bill and Abigail it would seem," Lee said. "What happened at Christmas notwithstanding, I didn't trust him. When Bill asked me to give him a job, he practically had to blackmail my conscience to get me to do it, but by the time I was finished talking with Henry, it was like my whole view of him had changed and I genuinely wanted him to take the job. Does that make any sense?"

Rosemary smiled. "Believe it or not, it actually does."

"Oh, good," Lee said. "Could you explain it to me then?"

She laughed and gave him a soft kiss. "You're a good man."

He sighed. "I wasn't earlier today," he admitted, before his voice hardened with determination, "but I'm hoping to make up for that."

* * *

 **A/N Let me know what you think! Next chapter should be up early next week! :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Who saw the season premier? I don't want to spoil anyone, so in case there are any who haven't seen it, I won't say anything except that I loved it! As usual! But for any of you who saw it, feel free to leave a review and let me know what you thought of the first episode of season 5! And while you're at it, feel free to also let me know what you think of this chapter! :)**

 **Chapter 7**

It took quite a bit of convincing from Bill, Abigail, and surprisingly, Lee, as well as the realization that he really didn't have any other options, but Henry finally accepted the job offer.

He'd been hesitant at first, uncertain how it was going to go, but Lee had welcomed him warmly and eased him into the job gradually.

By the end of his first week, he had a pretty good handle on it all. When he wasn't taking care of paperwork and records, he oversaw the general workings of the mill. There were several others below his position, heads of different divisions that did most of the overseeing of the work but when there were problems or anything that required more authority or approval, it fell to him to handle if Lee wasn't around or was too busy.

It didn't even take Henry the full first week to figure out that Lee and Bill had kept some of the details of the job description to themselves. He had thought he was going to be a low-level manager, basically just another office hired hand to deal with small things and do paperwork. Either the job description had changed, or they purposely hadn't told him that he'd actually be Lee's right-hand man, and eventually have complete authority of the entire mill, second only to Lee himself.

Honestly, it had probably been a smart move on their part, because he never would have taken the job if he'd known that. But now that he had agreed to it, he couldn't just walk away and leave Lee in the lurch, especially after the man had gone out on such a limb for him.

Despite his initial trepidation, he got the hang of the job quickly and after just a few weeks had even managed to relax into the role.

It was a bit difficult at first, being put in charge of people who weren't exactly fans of his, but with Lee vouching for him, the men had accepted it, albeit reluctantly. Only a month later, and they all seemed to no longer have a problem with his authority over them. He'd worked hard to do a good and fair job and it seemed to be working. The men no longer hesitated to come to him with problems and listened to his advice when he gave it. He was cautiously hopeful that maybe he was starting to earn their trust a little, or at least their respect.

It felt different. To command people out of mutual respect and fairness, rather than fear or dominating power. He didn't have to exert his position or back anyone into a corner to maintain his authority. He only had to do the best he could at his job, and the men followed him willingly.

Well, that was a lesson that would have been really helpful to learn long before now.

He'd been working at the mill for about a month, and in that time, Lee had slowly given him more and more rein. He'd kept a close eye on Henry at first, likely not completely trusting him just yet. Henry couldn't blame him. It was the smart thing to do. But where Lee differed from so many in town, was he was actually willing to give Henry a chance. Now, just a month later, and Lee had given Henry the complete run of the mill whenever he needed to. He trusted Henry with everything, even the money.

It staggered Henry that anyone could trust him after everything he'd done, let alone as quickly as Lee had.

The first time Lee had handed Henry the payroll to take to the bank for deposit, Henry had gaped at him. Thankfully, he'd been able to control himself before he'd done something horrifying like cry, but the gesture... that level of trust? It was something that was so simple, and yet, it had meant so much to him. It had floored him and he hadn't had the words to express it to Lee.

When he wasn't working, Henry found himself spending much of his spare time at Abigail's cafe. She wasn't always there, what with her duties as mayor, but he ate every meal he could there, and usually managed to see her at least once a day, even if just in passing.

Most days, he got off work around the same time that school let out, and after the first few times of running into Cody as they both walked back toward town, it had somehow become routine for them to meet up and walk together to the cafe every day.

Because of this, he ended up eating dinner with Cody, and usually Abigail, several times a week, if not more. He'd never thought of himself as being good with kids, or even really knowing what to do with them at all, but somewhere along the way, he'd managed to form a friendship with Cody. They talked a lot, the boy usually willingly chattering away about his day and what he'd learned.

Cody had even developed the habit of inviting him to do things on a fairly regular basis. The boy often would ask (read: beg) Henry to go with him to play with Dasher or sometimes to just play catch. They'd even gone fishing a couple of times. Henry had rapidly discovered he was pretty terrible at fishing, but Cody didn't seem to mind. At least, Henry was fairly sure the boy got a pretty good kick out of it, if the amount of time Cody spent laughing at him was any indication.

But, Henry thought what had really won the boy over, were the tricks he'd helped Cody teach Dasher. Apparently, the boy had wanted to teach the dog several things, including how to shake hands and roll over, but hadn't known how to go about it. Thankfully, Henry had had a dog as a boy, and after Cody had first mentioned it, he'd easily offered up the necessary information. The awed and excited look on Cody's face had been one of the greatest sights he'd ever seen. And Henry had been absolutely astonished when Cody had made a point of Henry being the first one, even before Abigail, to get to watch the dog perform once the boy had finished teaching him a new trick.

He'd surprised himself by how much Cody's grateful excitement had meant to him. Just a few years ago... Well, he wouldn't have even given the boy the time of day, let alone cared about making Cody happy.

It was strange, this new life of his. The things that mattered to him now, that he wouldn't have even cared about a few years ago. He'd been so blind before, chasing wealth as if it were happiness, when all the things he'd been ignoring and shoving away had been the very things that actually could make him happy.

And he actually did feel... happy, these days. He had a job. He had... friends? He wasn't sure if the few people who showed him kindness really qualified as friends, but they were certainly the closest he had to any at the moment. Abigail, Lee, Bill, Frank, Carson, Cody, and surprisingly, even Rosemary had all treated him like he really deserved a second chance, like he was a human being who had messed up and was now trying to make up for his mistakes. Even Jack and Elizabeth seemed to be slowly coming around. Her more so than him, but he'd take whatever he could get.

Things were starting to look up. There were still plenty of stares as he walked through town, and a hearty dose of disapproval, especially when he walked with Cody. And more than his fair share of mistrust and anger continued to follow him, but it wasn't so bad anymore. The glares hurt less and escaped his notice more. The sting didn't seem so great as the people in his life somehow blocked out the ones still against him.

It had only been a little over a month since his return, but he already felt like he had a life here again. This time, a good one that he was actually growing to love.

Which was why it all had to come crashing down, of course. It was the law of Henry Gowan. Just when things started going good, something bad had to happen to balance the scales.

 **)()()(**

"I received a wire from headquarters this morning," Jack said as Bill poured himself a cup of coffee and seated himself in front of Jack's desk in the jailhouse.

"Something going on?" he asked, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Escaped prisoner," Jack said. "Johnny Cotton."

Bill furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "Don't think I know that one."

"I didn't think you would," Jack said. "He was a pretty low-level operator, for the most part. Ultimately, he was sentenced for armed robbery, but he wasn't the mastermind. Just one of the hired hands of a bigger gang."

"How do you know so much about him?

"I put him away," Jack said, with a smirk. "It was one of my first arrests actually."

"What gang was he running with?"

"The Trenton Gang."

Bill's eyebrows rose. "You helped capture the Trenton gang?"

"More or less," Jack said. "I was there, but I and a few of the other more inexperienced Mounties were just backup. You know the story."

Bill nodded. "One of the best set ups in recent Mountie history. The entire Trenton Gang walks into a bank for one of the biggest scores of their criminal career only to find themselves in the middle of a room full of armed and ready Mounties." Bill shook his head slightly. "I always wished I could have been there for that one. If only to see the looks on their faces."

Jack chuckled. "They were not happy, I'll tell you that. Anyway, I and the rest of the backup were posted in strategic hiding places outside the bank in case we were needed. Cotton was actually the lookout, so he'd stayed outside. When he saw the rest of his buddies dead to rights inside, he took off. I just happened to be the closest to him and was able to chase him down before he could get away."

Bill nodded in appreciation. "Not his lucky day."

"No, it wasn't," Jack agreed.

"So, if he's such a small-time player, how'd he manage to escape?"

"Believe it or not, it was actually luck," Jack said with a shake of his head. "They were transferring him to a more-minimum security location to make room for worse prisoners at the main detention facility. The prison wagon lost a wheel. By the time they got it back on, it was getting late, so the two Mounties with him decided to camp for the night. They left Cotton in the wagon, but they didn't know when the wagon lost its wheel, some of the wood around the back door cracked. Cotton discovered it and spent at least part of the night working at it until he was able to slip the door open enough to get free. When the Mounties woke up the next morning, he was gone."

Bill snorted and shook his head in wonder. "Some guys have all the luck."

"Isn't that the truth," Jack agreed. "Anyway, HQ sent out an all points, but Cotton was nowhere near this area so there's not much chance we'll be seeing any signs of him around here, but I wanted to let you know, on the off chance."

Bill nodded, and with no other pressing lawman business to demand either of their attention, for the time being, a companionable silence ensued. A few minutes later, they were still both quietly sipping at their coffee when the calm was shattered by the sound of pounding feet approaching the jailhouse.

Moments later, one of Lee's employees (Bill was pretty sure his name was Thompson) came bursting through the door.

"He did it! I knew it was only a matter of time! He didn't think anyone saw, but I did, and I'm not going to let him get away with it!"

"Whoa, whoa," Jack yelled, waving his hands to stop the borderline tirade as he and Bill both got to their feet. "Who are you talking about?"

"Gowan," Thompson spat. "Who else? I just watched him rob Mister Coulter."

"Wait. What?" Bill asked in disbelief. "What exactly did you see?"

"I saw him open the safe, how he got the combination I don't know, but he took out a bunch of money. It looked like the entire payroll. He put it all in a nondescript bag and left with it. When he came back about an hour later, he didn't have the bag."

Bill eyed the bespectacled, mousey-looking man. He was younger, maybe early to mid-thirties. Bill knew he worked for Lee but couldn't remember in what capacity. However, one glance at his wiry appearance offered at least some clue. The man was definitely the desk-job-in-an-office type, his build decidedly not that of a strong physical laborer. But it was his attitude that really caught Bill's attention. As the man related his story, he didn't appear to be all that distressed or upset. Really, if Bill had to put a name to the gleam in his eye, he'd say Thompson looked excited.

"Remind me again what it is you do for Mister Coulter?" Bill asked.

The man blinked, clearly having not expected that question. "I'm his accountant."

"Ah, right," Bill said, not at all surprised. "Now, was Mister Coulter anywhere nearby during this?"

The man shook his head. "He went home for lunch. Gowan was alone. Or so he thought."

Bill nodded, skepticism the predominant emotion running through him, backed up with an odd feeling of irritation at the blatant lack of respect in Thompson's tone every time he said Henry's name. This man was just a little too gleeful about this, and Bill had seen enough of Henry in recent weeks to be willing to give the man the benefit of the doubt. As surprising as it was, Bill actually didn't think Henry capable of doing this. Not anymore, and not to anyone, but especially not to Lee. The mill owner had taken what, for most people, would be a big chance on Henry, and Bill knew just how grateful Henry was to Lee for everything. There was no way he'd betray that.

"Well, thanks for letting us know," Bill said. "We'll look into it. Just do us a favor and don't go spreading this around."

"Right," Thompson agreed. "If word gets out, it might spook him."

"Yeah," Bill said slowly. "Sure." Actually, he just didn't want the man slandering Henry until all the facts were actually in order. But Thompson could think whatever he wanted as long as it shut him up.

"Don't worry. Mum's the word," Thompson said. Then, with a salute (yes an actual salute. And yes, it did look really dumb), the man turned and left the jailhouse.

Bill turned and looked at Jack incredulously.

"Can you believe that?" he asked with a laugh.

"Unfortunately, I can," Jack sighed. "I wanted to think the best of him but... Some people never change."

"Wait," Bill said, furrowing his brow. "I was talking about that idiot Thompson. What are you talking about?"

"Gowan," Jack replied as if it were obvious.

"Gowan?" Bill asked, incredulous for an entirely different reason. "When did it become 'Gowan'?"

"When he started stealing from people again," Jack said.

"Hold on, Jack. You can't seriously be believing those accusations."

"He's taken money before," Jack said.

"Yeah, which he did his time for," Bill returned, an edge creeping into his voice.

"Doesn't mean he's changed," Jack shot back.

"No, that would be," Bill looked mock thoughtful for a moment before he shrugged, "only _every_ word and action he's displayed since coming back here," he finished sarcastically. "Really, Jack. Even if you won't give him the benefit of the doubt, just think about this. If he did do this, then he just took a large sum of money, that will be easily missed, from a safe that he is one of only a few to have access to, and the money goes missing while he's _on the job_? Even if he was the same man he used to be, which I don't for a second believe, he's never been stupid. If he really took it, he'd have to know he'd be the very first suspect."

"Doesn't mean he didn't do it anyway," Jack argued. "You're right. He's not stupid, and he knows we know that. Maybe he's counting on us second guessing ourselves and not suspecting him simply because it's too obvious."

Bill gaped at his friend. "Do you even _hear_ yourself, right now?" he exploded. "Why are you so gung-ho to run him out on a rail?"

"We've just been told what he did," Jack said, motioning to where Thompson had been minutes earlier.

"And since when do we let witnesses interpret the facts for us?"

"Since when are you so protective of Henry Gowan?" Jack shot back.

"Since he became _my friend_ , Jack," Bill said. "He served his time," he reiterated. "And I believe he's changed. So, until I have proof otherwise, I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Why?" Jack pressed.

Bill sighed and tried not to look at the Mountie with disappointment. "Forgiveness, Jack. If we can't forgive others, even someone like Henry Gowan... _especially_ Henry Gowan, then what does that say about us?"

"I have forgiven him," Jack said defensively. "But that doesn't mean I'm just going to forget."

"That's not real forgiveness," Bill said. "And you know it. Forgive but don't forget? You're still holding on to every bad thing he's done, which means you have not forgiven him, no matter what you've tried to convince yourself. Real forgiveness doesn't need to remember, because real forgiveness has moved past it and let it go."

Jack finally seemed to deflate and his eyes dropped to the floor, a bit of shame creeping into them.

"Look," Bill said. "Maybe he did do what Thompson's accusing him of. But what if he didn't? Did you see how gleeful Thompson was? What if there's an explanation? Don't we owe it to him and to ourselves to find out, _without_ punishing him for his past mistakes? That's not how it's supposed to work, Jack."

"I know," Jack sighed, dropping into a chair and running a hand through his hair. "You're right, it's just... It's Henry Gowan," he said, meeting Bill's eyes as if that explained everything. Unfortunately, it kind of did. "There's just so much history there."

Bill nodded, feeling some of his own anger drain away, and sat down across from Jack. "I know, believe me. I have even more history with him than you do. But maybe that's why I feel so certain that he didn't do anything wrong."

Jack looked at him curiously.

"I've known Henry for a good number of years and I can tell you right now, the man who went to prison? Is not the same one who came back here. He is a different person. I know that in the depths of my soul, Jack. He has genuinely changed."

Jack met his eyes for a long moment. He wanted to believe what Bill was saying, the sheriff could see that much, but there was doubt and conflict there.

"The law says he paid for his crimes and has a clean slate," Bill said. "But if he can't even get a second chance here, in Hope Valley, then where can he?"

"We still have to investigate it," Jack said, almost reluctantly.

"I know," Bill agreed. "Just, please don't convict him solely on the word of a man who clearly has it out for him."

Jack nodded. "Okay, Bill. We'll give him the benefit of the doubt. We'll go talk to him directly. Just ask him about it, see what he says."

Bill nodded. "I can get behind that."

 **)()()(**

Arriving at the sawmill, Bill and Jack could see both Henry and Lee through the window of the main office. Lee was sitting at his desk, with Henry standing next to him, as they both pointed and gestured at some kind of plans or schematics spread out on Lee's desk, discussing whatever they were examining.

The two lawmen entered the office, causing Lee and Henry to break off their conversation and look up at them with some surprise.

"Bill, Jack," Lee greeted. "What brings you here?"

Bill shot Jack a look, hoping the Mountie would let him take lead on this. When Jack remained silent, Bill took a small step forward.

"I'm sorry to say some... information has been presented to us that we have to investigate."

He sighed, hating that he had to say this at all as he looked into Henry's face and saw no deception or knowledge. He had absolutely no idea what Bill was working up to. Bill was certain of that. If Henry was guilty, it would have shown the moment he and Jack entered the room.

Clearing his throat, he looked Henry in the eye, respecting the man enough to give him that much. "There have been some allegations made against you, Henry."

"What?" Henry asked, and oh, if the confused, crestfallen look in the man's eyes didn't feel like a sucker punch to Bill.

"Someone came to us accusing you of stealing money from the sawmill sometime earlier today. We have no choice but to investigate it," Bill finished.

Henry's confusion cleared, leaving only sadness behind. "I didn't take any money, Bill," he said softly. "I took the payroll out of the safe and carried to the bank for deposit, like I've been doing regularly for weeks now."

Bill had never believed Henry had done anything wrong, but even so, it still hurt to see the expression on Henry's face. Literally, the only way to describe it was 'kicked puppy.'

Bill gave Jack a brief glance, the Mountie looking for all the world like he wished the ground would split open and swallow him.

"Yes, for weeks now, on my orders," Lee agreed, his expression and tone of voice defensive. "If you need proof, I have the receipt from the bank here, accounting for every penny." He held out said slip of paper, his eyes slightly angry.

"That's not necessary," Bill said, holding up a hand in refusal. "I'm really sorry, Henry. We didn't have a choice."

Henry nodded. "You were just doing your jobs."

"For what it's worth," Jack spoke up for the first time, "Bill never believed it for a second," he looked away. "I'm ashamed to say I did. I thought you'd gone back to your old ways." He forced himself to look Henry in the eye again. "I thought the worst of you, and for that, I'm sorry. Bill was right. I should have believed in you, and I didn't. Just... don't be upset with Bill. He defended you, never once thinking you'd done anything wrong."

Henry looked at Bill with... hope? "Is that true?"

Bill gave him a slight smile. "You've changed Henry. Anyone can see that, if they're just willing to look. I know you're not the same man I sent to prison over a year ago."

Something shone in Henry's eyes as he looked at Bill. Gratitude maybe?

"Thank you, Bill," he said softly. "That really means a lot."

It was downright painful to hear the man sound so grateful to someone simply for believing in him, as if that was some privilege granted him, instead of a right that should be expected. Bill was sad to realize, for Henry, it really was that way. These days, there weren't that many in this town willing to ask questions first and form opinions later where Henry was concerned. Even Jack had thought the worst.

Henry had served his time, and yet, in many ways, was still paying for his mistakes. It wasn't right, and Bill hated it. But there was also nothing anyone could really do to fix it.

"Again, Henry, I'm sorry," Jack said, looking absolutely miserable.

"It's okay, Jack, really," Henry said softly, and the honest-to-goodness understanding they could see in his eyes was actually more painful than it was absolving.

"No, Henry, it's not okay," Jack insisted. "I was wrong. I never should have jumped to conclusions. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that, Jack," Henry said with a nod.

"Bill," Lee addressed. "May I ask who made these allegations?"

"Your man Thompson," Bill readily answered. "And he seemed to take a particular amount of excitement in reporting it to us. He claimed to have seen you taking the money out of the safe, Henry. Makes me wonder how long he's been watching and waiting for something to use against you."

Lee's face twisted in anger and he actually growled, startling them slightly. " _My man_ Thompson?" He scoffed. "He's not going to be my man for much longer, I can tell you that."

Lee rounded his desk and headed straight for the door.

"Lee, you don't have to-" Henry started.

"No, Henry," Lee rounded on him forcefully. "No one treats one of my employees like this, and certainly not one of my friends."

The stunned expression on Henry's face at that pronouncement might have been funny if it weren't so heartbreaking.

Without another word, Lee left the office, and only moments later, the three men still inside could hear Lee's livid yelling, even through the walls of the office.

They all looked out the windows to see Lee outright berating a completely shocked Thompson. The three men couldn't fully make out what Lee was saying, but the sheer volume of his voice and the wild, angry gesturing of his hands, coupled with the almost terrified expression taking over Thompson's face told the story pretty well.

By the time Lee was finished, the man looked thoroughly whipped and on the verge of actually whimpering. Who knows? Maybe he was.

Moments later, Lee stormed back into the office. "I can't abide men like that," he growled under his breath. "Rather than come to me or confront Henry, he chose to... That's just vindictive!" he ranted.

"So, I take it Thompson doesn't work here anymore," Bill asked rhetorically, more to try to break Lee out of his angry tirade than anything.

"You _bet_ he doesn't," Lee stated with an emphatic nod. "Like I said before, I won't stand for anybody who works for me to treat another employee like that, especially when that employee is also one of my friends."

Bill wasn't sure how Henry could look just as amazed by that statement the second time around as he had the first, but he did.

"You didn't have to do that, Lee," he said, his tone sounding way too self-deprecating for Bill's taste.

"Yes, Henry, I did," Lee stated, his tone matter-of-fact as he met Henry's eyes, trying to drive home the sincerity behind his words.

"Thank you," Henry said softly, sounding way too grateful for something so little as being called a friend.

"That's what friends are for," Lee said, once again reinforcing the sentiment, making it impossible for Henry to deny or explain it away as less than it was.

Bill supposed they were all going to have to do that. Obviously, Henry fully believed himself unworthy of friendship or allies. And the only way to change that was to force him to accept that he wasn't alone anymore, whether he liked it or not.

* * *

 **A/N So I'm finally starting to get some important things set up and the story is going to start picking up just a little. I'm building up to some pretty good stuff, so stick with me! I think, and hope, you guys are going to like where I'm going with all of this! And please let me know if you guys are still enjoying this story so far! Next chapter will be up later this week. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"I thought I might find you here," Frank said as he took a seat next to Henry on the front pew of the church. "I heard about what happened."

Henry sighed. "Honestly, I think I've been waiting for something like this to happen ever since things started getting better."

"Why?"

Henry shrugged slightly. "Every time things start going my way, something usually happens."

"Everyone feels like that at times," Frank said.

Henry was quiet for a long moment. "Most people don't deserve it, though."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Frank asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear Henry say it.

"Whatever happens to me, I deserve."

Frank wasn't sure which was worse, the fact that Henry actually believed that, or that it was such a normal thought in his mind that he was able to say it with such unfeeling, matter-of-fact certainty.

"What you deserve is forgiveness, Henry."

He shook his head. "I'm not sure I believe that. No one deserves forgiveness."

"From God? No, we don't _deserve_ it, but He gives it to us anyway. But from each other? We do deserve forgiveness. Because we're all flawed. We all make mistakes and bad choices. If God can show us that kind of mercy, then we have no right to withhold it from each other. God even commands us to forgive."

Henry didn't look at him, but he also didn't argue. As long as he was listening, Frank would take that as encouragement.

"Henry... as important as it is for others to forgive you, it's even more important for you to forgive yourself."

Henry finally met his eyes.

"You still have all this guilt and self-recrimination that you're carrying around with you as if you're still a criminal. Do you not believe God can forgive you?"

"Yes, of course, He can," Henry said.

"Then do you not believe that He already has?"

"I... I suppose so," Henry reluctantly admitted.

"Then why can't you forgive yourself?"

"I don't know," Henry admitted. "I just still feel so ashamed of everything I've done. I can never make up for any of it."

"No," Frank agreed. "But that's what mercy is for. Forgiveness isn't about making up for something. It's about being sorry for your mistakes, regretting them, and asking for grace. None of us can ever make up for anything we do, but, thankfully, God doesn't ask us to." He paused for a moment, studying Henry. "Let me ask you this, have you asked God to forgive you?"

Henry chuckled humorlessly. "So many times."

"Then as far as He's concerned, none of that exists anymore," Frank said. "'As far as the east is from the west, so far has God removed our transgressions from us,'" he quoted. "Once He forgives us of something, He doesn't remember it anymore. So why do you? Why are you still holding on to it all?"

"I've tried to ignore it and pretend it doesn't bother me anymore, and I've been doing a pretty good job of it lately, but the truth is, it's still there. I still carry it all with me. I just don't know how to let it go," Henry admitted.

"God does," Frank said softly. "You don't just have to just ask Him for forgiveness, you know. You can also ask Him for help, whether you think you deserve it or not. In His eyes, you do, because He loves you. He loves all of us. Love has nothing to do with deserve. It doesn't condemn, and neither does forgiveness. Because forgiveness, mercy, grace, they all come from love. He loves you enough to forgive you for everything, no matter how bad. Which means He also loves you enough to help you forgive yourself."

"Would... Would you pray with me?"

Frank didn't say anything. He simply rested one hand on Henry's back and held out the other to the man.

Henry took the offered hand and met the preacher's, his friend's, eyes.

"Thank you, Frank."

Frank smiled and squeezed his hand.

Then they both bowed their heads and started to pray.

 **)()()(**

After the entire encounter with Thompson, things began to change somewhat.

It didn't take long for the story of what had happened to spread around the mill. But, instead of making things worse for Henry like he feared it might, somehow, the accusations had earned him more respect with the men instead of less. Was it because when someone finally accused him of something, his innocence had borne out? Or was it simply because he'd proven that he actually was capable of taking someone else's money and delivering it to where it was supposed to go instead of keeping it for himself?

Regardless of the reasoning behind it, the whole thing had only served to raise the men's regard for him.

But perhaps the biggest change that came from the whole ordeal, was Jack. Ever since Henry had been back in town, Jack had treated him with distant neutrality. He'd never been rude or hateful, but he also hadn't gone out of his way to be warm and friendly. They'd just sort of had a middle-ground, nod of acknowledgment when passing on the street, type of relationship.

Henry didn't blame Jack. The man was a Mountie and had had more than one first-hand experience with Henry and his conniving and corrupt actions over the years. He had a right to be mistrustful.

But after Thompson's accusations, that started to change.

The following day, Bill had met up with Henry for lunch, and as they were sitting down in the cafe, Jack had come in. Looking somewhat unsure of himself, he'd asked if he could join them.

Bill hadn't said anything, leaving the decision up to Henry. He'd agreed and the three of them had had a somewhat awkward, but mostly pleasant, meal together. Jack hadn't mentioned the previous day's events or apologized again, which Henry was grateful for. He was somewhat tired of people feeling the need to apologize to him. It should be the other way around in his mind. He was the one who still had so many apologies to make.

But, despite the lack of allusions to the mess with Thompson, Henry could still tell it was on Jack's mind, and could see the Mountie was trying to make it up to him, by actually making an effort, where he hadn't before.

Henry knew it was mostly coming from a place of guilt, but appreciated Jack giving him a chance, regardless of the motivations.

This went on for several days, as both men regularly met Henry for lunch. A few times, Carson, and even Frank, happened along and joined them too. The only thing that could have made it better for Henry was if Lee had been there too, but he couldn't blame the man for wanting to go home to his wife for lunch every day.

With each passing day and subsequent encounter with Jack, their interactions became less and less strained. The guilt that had motivated the Mountie slowly faded, and he began to spend time around Henry because he wanted to, without obligation. Before long, he and Jack were just as comfortable around each other as Henry was with Bill or Frank or Carson or Lee, and Henry found himself actually feeling grateful for the whole thing with Thompson.

At the time, he'd thought it was a devastating blow, the other shoe finally dropping, but now...

The Mountie's entire demeanor toward him had done a complete one-eighty and it was all thanks to Thompson and his accusations. That one incident had been exactly what he and Jack had needed to tear down the icy wall that had been standing between them.

Sitting at a table in the saloon on a Saturday morning a couple of weeks later, he sipped at his coffee and talked with Jack, Bill, Carson, Frank, and Lee, while Abigail, Elizabeth, Rosemary, and some of the other ladies in town were gathered together doing... something. Drinking tea and sharing gossip, maybe? He really wasn't sure what went on when all of those ladies got together, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He did know he wasn't alone in those sentiments, though. There was a reason the six of them were gathered at the saloon. When ladies started flocking together like that, men made themselves scarce.

But as he sat there, looking around the table, he thought, if he never won over anyone else in town except these five men and Abigail, Elizabeth, and Rosemary, then he wouldn't feel at all like a failure. God had already brought him so far, much farther than he ever could have hoped after he got out of prison, and it didn't seem as if He was finished yet. Henry still couldn't fully wrap his head around everything that had already happened in... not even two full months yet, and he couldn't imagine what else might be in store.

But he couldn't wait to find out.

 **)()()(**

"Any updates on Cotton?" Bill asked Jack while the two of them were eating lunch with Henry one day, as had become almost routine for the three of them.

Jack shook his head. "I haven't heard anything, so I assume he's still at large."

Henry's brow furrowed, not entirely sure what they were talking about, but based off what they'd said... At large? Cotton? A bit of concern shot through him. It couldn't be...

"What are you two talking about?" Henry asked, drawing their attention.

"Mountie HQ sent out an all points, couple weeks ago, for an escaped prisoner," Bill answered.

The concern in his chest grew, rapidly approaching alarm. "Cotton?" Henry asked. When both men nodded, Henry tensed slightly. "Not Johnny Cotton?"

They both blinked, their attention on him becoming sharper.

"You know him?" Bill asked.

Henry shook his head, setting down his fork and forgetting about his food for the moment. "Know _of_ him. Jack you need to be careful," he warned.

"He's a small-time player and he wasn't anywhere near here when he escaped. There's nothing to be alarmed about, Henry," Jack assured, looking unconcerned.

"Jack, you don't get it," Henry pressed, his tone serious, borderline alarmed. "Cotton was at the same detention center I was. I never personally met him, thankfully," he added with a slight eye roll. "But I overheard him talk often enough and he had a reputation among the prisoners. Everyone tried to avoid him, if possible, because he would never shut up about how someday he was going to get out of there, and the first thing he was going to do when he did."

"I'm not sure I understand where you're going with this Henry," Jack said, confusion on his face, but at least he was taking him seriously.

By now, Henry had drawn the attention of Abigail, Elizabeth, and Rosemary where they had been standing and talking near the kitchen moments before, but were now approaching as they listened to the conversation.

"Jack, every prisoner in the Cape Fullerton Detention Center has heard Cotton's story, at some point or another, about how he would have gotten away scot-free if not for one particular Mountie."

Both Bill's and Jack's eyes widened slightly and they shared a slightly alarmed look.

"He's been talking for years about how the first thing he's going to do once he's free again is get revenge on the person he blames for putting him away," Henry said. "And it's your name he brings up, every time."

"Henry, are you sure?" Bill asked.

Henry cocked his head slightly. "Unless there's another Mountie named Jack Thornton who put Cotton away."

"Jack? Is this true?" Elizabeth asked, sounding worried.

Henry winced slightly. The situation was serious, but he hadn't meant to worry the women. He should have waited to speak to Jack and Bill in a more private setting, but it had alarmed him to hear the name, and he'd felt time was of the essence.

Jack nodded. "I'm the one who put him away, but some threats don't necessarily mean there's any real danger. Cotton would be stupid to try coming after a Mountie," he said, but it sounded too much like he was trying to convince himself too.

"Henry, how serious do you really think this is?" Abigail asked. Something in her eyes made him think that she knew he wouldn't have said anything unless the danger was very real.

"Look, I didn't mean to scare anyone," Henry said by way of apology, "but I've spent enough time around bad men to know when one is just mouthing off and when a threat isn't just a threat. If Cotton gets the chance, he will come after you, Jack. I'm certain of it."

Uneasy silence followed that pronouncement. Henry hated putting that on all of them, but better they know and worry, than be caught unaware. He'd seen and heard enough of Cotton to know that not telling Jack could get him killed. No man held on to a grudge like that, for that many years, without having every intention of acting on it.

Finally, Jack nodded. "Thank you, Henry."

"It might be a good idea to wire headquarters and check if they have any lines on him and let them know we have reason to believe he could be headed this way," Bill suggested.

"That's a good idea," Jack agreed.

Henry nearly sighed in relief, so glad they believed him and took him seriously. If they didn't believe anything else he ever said, at least they were heeding him on this.

Bill and Jack laid their money on the table and stood.

"Sorry to cut this short-" Bill began.

Henry shook his head, waving them off. "Go. Do what you need to."

"Jack," Elizabeth said, her expression worried.

He took her hand. "It'll be okay. Now that we know to be watching for him, it's going to be hard for him to try anything," he tried to reassure her.

"And other Mounties are looking for him too. It's just as likely he could be caught long before he makes it here," Abigail added.

"And even if they don't, it takes a lot more than one man to get the drop on Jack," Rosemary tossed out.

Henry honestly couldn't tell if her comment had actually helped to reassure Elizabeth or only worry her further.

He didn't have a chance to puzzle it out as a hand came to rest on his shoulder and he looked up to meet Bill's eyes.

"Thank you for letting us know," he said.

"Yes, thank you, Henry," Elizabeth said sincerely.

Henry nodded earnestly. "I'm just glad I could help."

"Well, just for that, your meal is on the house," Abigail said with a smile.

"Now, there's no need in that," Henry protested. She'd gotten into the habit of offering him free food more and more, and he hated taking any profits away from her.

"Nonsense," Abigail cut him off. "You earned it."

Before he could protest further, she had collected Jack's and Bill's abandoned plates and was headed toward the kitchen.

Henry watched her go in consternation before glancing up at Bill again to see the other man also watching her go, but with a raised eyebrow, before looking back at Henry with a slight smirk and cryptic expression that Henry couldn't quite decipher.

Before he could ask about it, Bill patted his shoulder and turned, heading toward the door with Jack on his heels.

"Thanks again, Henry," Jack said, also giving his shoulder a squeeze as he passed.

"Watch yourself out there," Henry said.

Jack gave him a nod and followed Bill out of the cafe.

"Oh, I better go tell Lee. He can keep an eye out for anything suspicious," Rosemary said, heading for the door herself.

As he watched her go, Henry thought it was probably more likely Rosemary just wanted to share the news with someone, the hopeless gossip that she was, but couldn't argue that it could be beneficial for Lee to know, just in case. Carson would also be a good idea. Frank too.

The more eyes there were watching Jack's back, the better. When he saw Lee at work tomorrow, he'd be sure to give him a description of Cotton. And he'd make it a point to tell Frank and Carson about it too, the next time he happened to see them.

As he turned back toward his table, he caught sight of Elizabeth, still staring at the door with a worried expression on her face.

"Hey, Jack will be okay," he said, startling her out of her thoughts. "Cotton is only one man, and Jack has this whole town watching his back. His friends aren't going to let anything happen to him."

The worry didn't completely disappear, but he was glad to see it fade a bit as Elizabeth actually smiled. "Thank you, Henry," she said softly.

Henry returned the smile and nodded. He, too, was concerned, but he also believed what he'd said. No one in this town was going to let anything happen to Jack, and that included him.

* * *

 **A/N Interesting... Where might this be leading? You'll just have to wait and see! ;) As always, please let me know all of your thoughts and emotions regarding this story and/or all things WCTH related! Next chapter will be up around Monday! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Despite Henry's worries, another week passed without incident. However, Cotton still hadn't been caught, and they were all still on high alert for anyone matching his description.

As each day successfully passed without any sign of him, Henry hoped a little more that maybe nothing would come of it. Maybe Cotton had gotten wise and decided to seize his chance at freedom, instead of risking it all on something so stupid. Or maybe the other Mounties would finally catch up with him and take him back to prison.

But as much as he wished for either of those scenarios, a nagging dread stayed firmly settled in the pit of his stomach. Every instinct within him said that Cotton would come, he just hadn't gotten there yet.

Unfortunately, life did not automatically get put on hold for something like this. Despite the unease, time kept moving and normal routines prevailed for all of them. He woke up, grabbed a quick bite to eat at the cafe, went to work, ate lunch at the cafe, where he'd usually run into Bill or Jack or Carson or Frank or some mixture of the four, and have lunch with them, head back to work, walk Cody home from school, where Abigail would invite him to eat dinner with them, and, afterward, he'd go with Cody to walk Dasher, before heading home for the night. Lather, rinse, repeat.

As much as he still enjoyed every part of his day, his job, his (sort of, maybe?) friends, seeing Abigail and Cody, it was hard to completely relax and truly value it all when that tense, guarded instinct stayed ever present in the back of his mind.

Ultimately, though, his instincts proved true.

It was as Henry was walking home from work, a little over a week after his initial warning to Jack, that the waiting finally came to an end.

He was about halfway up main street, the walk feeling a bit odd without Cody talking next to him. It was a Friday and Elizabeth had decided to let the kids out a little early to get a jump on their current projects over the weekend, so the boy was already back at the cafe by the time he'd gotten off work.

He couldn't deny that he missed Cody. He hadn't just grown used to the boy, but found himself truly enjoying being around him. And this new, almost regular, habit of eating dinner with him and Abigail had become a highlight of Henry's day. He'd never known what it was to truly feel like a part of the kind of family Abigail and Cody had, and now he was blessed enough to get a glimpse of it nearly every day, to almost feel like he was as much a part of their lives as they had become of his.

Lost in thought, he was walking so absentmindedly, his feet knowing the way to the cafe on their own, that he almost missed it.

Almost.

He froze. Not far up the street, lurking next to one of the buildings, was a man Henry recognized from his time in prison.

Johnny Cotton.

Moving quickly, Henry leaped around the corner of the building next to him and pressed his back against it before Cotton could see him.

He sent up a fervent prayer of thanks. For today of all days to be the one when Elizabeth had just decided to let the kids go home early? The one day Cody wasn't with him, just so happens to be the day Cotton finally turns up? No way was that a coincidence.

Cautiously, he peeked around the corner.

Cotton was about two buildings farther up than Henry, and from this angle, Henry could just see him, but if Cotton looked his way, he shouldn't be able to see Henry, if he was careful.

The man in question was leaning nonchalantly against the side of the building, mostly hidden by it, but even if someone saw him, it was unlikely they would really notice him, let alone give him a second glance or thought. But as casual as his body language was, his eyes were anything but, as he stared farther up main street, intently.

Henry followed his gaze and a surge of adrenalin shot through him. Coming out of the jailhouse was Jack.

The jailhouse was on the opposite side of the street, but as Jack exited, he stepped off the walkway and crossed over to their side, where he promptly turned and walked straight toward them, with no idea what was awaiting him.

Looking back at Cotton, Henry watched the man shift slightly, eagerly, and stick his hands in his coat pockets. If there wasn't a gun in one of them, Henry would give away everything he owned.

His mind raced, scrambling to figure out what to do. He had to warn Jack somehow, but if he called out to him, he'd alert Cotton too, and getting Jack shot even sooner wasn't exactly what Henry was going for.

From where Henry was, Cotton was in between Jack and him, so there was no way to reach Jack without Cotton seeing him and, although he and Cotton had never actually interacted in prison, he wasn't willing to bet Jack's life that Cotton wouldn't recognize him. He also couldn't hope to sneak up on Cotton without the man easily seeing him, and getting shot wasn't really on Henry's to do list either.

He was still wracking his brain for something, anything to do, when he ran out of time. Jack reached the building Cotton was using as a blind and passed right by Cotton's hiding place without ever seeing him.

Henry was a single beat away from leaping out and trying to warn Jack, despite the risk, but something held him back. Something deep within him whispered at him to wait.

He held his ground, staying put, every muscle tense.

Cotton let the Mountie walk several more steps before he quietly stepped out behind him and started following.

An idea hit Henry suddenly. If Cotton would just go far enough, wait long enough, both Jack and Cotton would pass right by Henry, and he could use the exact same plan of action as Cotton.

"Come on. Come on," Henry whispered, pulling back a bit farther into the shadows as both men drew closer, Jack still unaware of the danger following him. "Just a little more. Please. Please let this work," he prayed under his breath.

He pressed himself against the wall, heart pounding, as Jack's footsteps approached. Cringing in the shadows and holding his breath, he prayed he wouldn't be discovered.

Jack passed by the opening without so much as a glance in his direction.

Henry listened, his ears honed in on the other set of footsteps as they moved closer and closer and... Cotton appeared in the gap between the buildings, only a few steps behind Jack, and pulled the gun out of his pocket.

"Jack Thornton," he addressed.

Jack might have turned at the sound of his name, if not for the additional, unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked.

Jack froze.

"Good move, Thornton," Cotton growled. "Moving ain't too good for your health at the moment."

"Cotton," Jack said, no doubt in his voice.

"Aw, you remember me," he said. "I certainly remember you." Cotton grinned, looking excited. "I've been waiting for this for a long time, but now that it's here, I can't decide... heart, or head?"

It was now or never. If he didn't act, Jack was dead.

Henry lunged out of his hiding place and barreled toward Cotton.

The armed man caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and jerked, but never had the chance to fully turn before Henry slammed into him. The gun went off, the shot deafening, as Henry tackled Cotton completely off the walkway and right onto main street. The two of them hit the ground in a heap, the gun flying from Cotton's hand.

Moving quickly, Henry wrapped one arm around Cotton's neck while the other pinned Cotton's left arm behind his back. The escaped convict struggled, trying to throw Henry off, but froze as the barrel of a gun appeared a foot from his face.

"Don't move," Jack warned.

Cautiously, Henry let Cotton go and climbed back to his feet.

Bill (where had he come from?) moved in and planted his knee into Cotton's back, keeping the convict firmly down on the ground.

"Henry, you all right?" Jack asked, concern lacing his voice as he kept his eyes trained on Cotton.

"I'm fine," he said with a quick nod. "You?" He glanced over Jack, remembering the shot that had been fired.

"Yeah. His shot went wide," Jack said, finally meeting Henry's eyes as Bill secured a set of handcuffs around Cotton's wrists. "Thanks to you."

Henry sighed in relief. _Thank you!_ "I'm just glad I saw him when I did," he said, brushing the dirt off his coat.

"You and me both," Jack agreed, reaching out to squeeze Henry's shoulder. "Thank you, Henry."

Henry met Jack's eyes and nodded once, solemnly. "Anytime, Jack."

Bill pulled a now struggling, spitting mad Cotton to his feet and shoved him in the general direction of the jailhouse.

As they passed, Bill nodded to him. "Nice work, Henry."

"Just right place, right time, Bill," Henry insisted.

"Jack!"

Henry quickly stepped out of the way as Elizabeth barreled into Jack, hugging him tightly.

"I'm fine. It's okay," he assured her.

After a moment, she pulled back and looked him over as if needing to confirm that for herself. "When I heard that shot..."

She hugged him again.

"I'm fine," Jack said again. "Thanks to Henry."

Elizabeth glanced at him, almost curiously, before looking back at Jack, a question in her eyes.

"He tackled Cotton to the ground. He saved my life," Jack said.

Elizabeth turned toward Henry, her eyes bright.

The next thing he knew, she was hugging _him_.

Henry blinked in surprise, his brain unsure how to react, so he simply froze.

"Thank you, Henry," she said, pulling back and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek before moving back over to Jack.

Henry cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the praise.

"It's what anybody would have done," he said, trying to shrug it off as no big deal.

"No, Henry, it isn't," Jack said. "What you did was a big deal. Thank you."

Elizabeth nodded in agreement as she wrapped an arm around Jack.

Henry shrugged shyly, feeling like he didn't really deserve thanks for something that anybody should have done in his position, but replied anyway. "You're welcome."

"Henry."

His head snapped around, something in the back of his mind responding to that voice before he'd even fully registered it.

Abigail came to a stop next to him, looking over first him, then Jack.

"I saw most of what happened. Are you both all right?" She reached out and gripped his arm, his heart fluttering at the contact before something in his chest twisted painfully at the sight of the worry in her eyes.

"We're fine," he quickly assured her. Anything to banish the concern from her gaze.

"Thanks to Henry's quick thinking," Jack added... unnecessarily, in Henry's opinion.

Abigail sighed in relief. "When that shot went off..." She pressed her free hand to her chest but didn't let go of his arm.

He wasn't sure why he felt so glad about that.

In the next moment, Cody came bounding up to them and skidded to a stop.

"Mister Henry, Mountie Jack, are you okay?"

"I told you to stay inside," Abigail scolded him.

"But Sheriff Avery took the bad guy to the jail," Cody protested.

Henry felt Abigail tense.

"We're both fine, Cody," he interjected, hoping to head off any further argument. They were all so keyed up on adrenalin, he was afraid she might snap at the boy out of fear.

His voice seemed to calm her somewhat as she let out a deep breath and relaxed a bit. She rested her hand on Cody's head, and for a moment, she was holding on to both him and her son, before she let go and collected herself.

"Well, I think that qualifies as Hope Valley's excitement quota for the rest of the year," she said.

"At least," Elizabeth added with a relieved chuckle.

"Cotton's not going anywhere now," Bill said as he rejoined them.

"I'll wire HQ to let them know we have him and get them to send out an escort to take him back to prison," Jack said.

"And I am going to make dinner for our conquering hero," Abigail announced. "Henry, what would you like?"

He opened his mouth to protest when he suddenly found himself with a very threatening finger inches from his face.

"And don't you argue with me about it. You saved Jack's life. That makes you a hero, and the hero gets his choice of free dinner," Abigail said, her tone giving him no other option but to raise his hands in surrender.

"Yes, ma'am," he readily agreed, drawing laughter from Elizabeth, Jack, Bill, and Cody.

"That's better," Abigail said with a nod, relaxing back and giving Henry enough room that he wasn't afraid to start breathing again.

Boy, did that woman terrify him sometimes.

"Jack, Elizabeth, Bill," she nodded to each of them. Then she was grabbing his arm again and absentmindedly dragging him in the direction of the cafe, as she nudged Cody along in front of her while asking him if he'd finished his homework.

Henry blinked, his brain unable to keep up with her. Just when he thought he was starting to find his footing around her, she sent him spinning all over again.

He glanced behind him, and Jack laughed at his mystified expression while Bill smirked in amusement and Elizabeth giggled.

"What was that all about?" she asked with another laugh as Henry, Abigail, and Cody disappeared into the cafe.

Bill shrugged. "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked, but his expression was lacking the confusion Bill might have expected to be there.

Bill just shook his head. "Nothing," he replied nonchalantly.

* * *

 **A/N So, Henry saved Jack! Be honest, how many of you thought that might be where I was going? Well, don't get too comfortable, because I'm pretty sure you aren't going to be expecting what I've got coming up in the next several chapters. Stay with me everybody, things are about to really take off! Next chapter will be up Friday. :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N I've really been looking forward to this chapter (and the next few chapters I have planned) since this story started. So I hope you guys like it! :)**

 ** **Chapter 10****

Dinner, that evening, was a more interesting affair than it usually was, as most of the conversation, naturally, revolved around the incident with Cotton.

Cody, of course, had to hear every detail at least twice. Henry obliged but was careful to leave out certain details so as not to scare the boy. He didn't think it appropriate for Cody to know that Cotton had paused long enough to let Henry act, because he hadn't been able to decide where it would be the most satisfying to shoot Jack.

Henry also did his best to downplay his own role in it all, but Cody still kept looking at him like he was some kind of superhero. And if he was being honest with himself, he couldn't exactly say he hated it.

By the time the excitement had wound down enough for the conversation to slow, it was well after dark. They'd long since finished eating but had continued to sit around the table, enjoying each other's company without even noticing the passage of time.

"Oh my," Abigail said, looking at the clock on the wall for the first time. "I can't believe how late it's gotten to be. It's already time for you to be getting ready for bed, Young Man," she said.

"Do I have to?" Cody groaned, disappointed.

"I'm afraid so."

"Okay," he reluctantly agreed with a sigh. He stood and headed for the stairs. "Night, Mom. Night, Mister Henry."

"Goodnight, Sweetheart," Abigail said.

"Goodnight, Cody," Henry called after him as the boy disappeared upstairs.

"I'm sorry we've held you up this long, Henry," she said as she rose and started clearing their dishes.

"No need to apologize," he said easily. "I enjoyed every minute of it."

He, too, stood and began carrying plates and bowls to the sink.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," she said.

"Abigail, you keep feeding me for free. The least I can do is help with the dishes," he said lightly. "I'd like to help."

"Well..." she said slowly, looking at him thoughtfully. "If you're sure you don't mind..."

"Not at all," he insisted.

"All right then," she agreed.

Once the dishes were all in the sink, they set about cleaning them, Abigail washing while Henry rinsed and dried.

"You're pretty good at that," Abigail complimented.

"Yeah, well, washing dishes was a punishment for bad behavior in prison," he said with a nonchalant expression.

She stopped what she was doing and stared at him for a long moment, an odd mixture of surprise, curiosity, sympathy, and concern in her eyes as she studied him.

Finally, he couldn't hold it any longer and burst out laughing.

Realizing he was joking, she tried to send him a disgruntled look but couldn't completely fight back her smile. Seconds later, she was laughing too.

"I can't believe you," she said, lightly slapping his shoulder.

"Sorry," he said, still grinning. "I couldn't resist."

She shook her head at him. "I can't believe I fell for that. I mean, dishes? Now, peeling potatoes I would have believed," she said, her mouth twitching and her eyes gleaming mischievously.

He scoffed, sending her a mock hurt look. "Now, that's a low blow. I'll have you know, potato peeling is a very respectable job in prison," he said imperiously. "There are guys starting riots and trying to escape just to be able to land that honor."

She laughed again and leaned to gently bump his shoulder with her own, shoving him over slightly.

Grinning impishly, he dipped his hand into the water in front of him and quickly flicked his wrist, sending water splashing toward her.

Abigail jumped back, both arms raised slightly and mouth agape. She was far from drenched, but he had managed to spatter her pretty good.

She looked at him incredulously before a devious grin crossed her face. "Oh, you're on."

Lunging forward, she scooped up a handful of water and slung it at him.

Laughing like a school boy, he ducked to the side, managing to miss most of it, but still felt a fair number of drops hit his shoulder and sprinkle down his sleeve.

She scooped up another handful and he held up a hand.

"Now, that's not fair," he said, slowly crossing behind the kitchen table as she wielded the water threateningly. "I'm unarmed."

"You should have thought about that before you started it," she teased, sending another small shower his way.

He lurched sideways again, around the end of the table, moving just quickly enough for the spray to pass right by him, missing him completely.

He laughed again, a happy, carefree sound.

It was contagious, and Abigail couldn't help but laugh too. Scooping up one more handful of water, she darted toward him, hoping if she was close enough, she'd be able to get him.

But she only made it three steps before her feet slipped on the water they'd managed to spill around the sink. She stumbled, losing her balance.

He lunged forward, reaching for her, to stop her fall.

Her arms instinctively shot out to catch herself, and landed on his chest. Startled, his arms automatically wrapped around her, steadying her.

He froze, his heart pounding and every muscle tense as if ready to flee at any moment. He suddenly felt like an animal that had been caught and cornered, except there was nothing in him that wanted to run or get away.

She was so close, already leaning against his chest, her face only inches from his, her eyes staring into his own.

She was so beautiful.

Distantly, his mind screamed at him that he needed to move, to step away from her, make an excuse to get out of there, but it was as if every beat of his heart was drowning out the voice in his head. All he really registered was that he needed to move.

But when he did, it wasn't to run away or step back. Shifting without a conscious choice to do so, he leaned toward her, their faces drawing closer until he could feel the featherlight touch of her breath on his lips.

She didn't move away.

Her eyes still held his, captivating, spellbinding. It was as if she could see into his very soul, but she didn't look away or cringe back. It felt as if she saw all of him, the good and bad, the strengths and vulnerabilities, the scars and the still open wounds. She could see it all and wasn't even trying to look away, no sign of disgust or disappointment anywhere in her eyes. Only acceptance... and something else he dare not let himself hope for. He couldn't look away, couldn't break that gaze even if he wanted to... And he didn't.

He had no idea which of them moved, maybe it was both of them, but the moment his lips met hers, everything changed.

For weeks he'd been unconsciously taking every emotion, every feeling of affection and lov- everything he'd ever felt toward her, and had stuffed it away, deep within the recesses of his heart and soul, hiding it from himself, safely locked behind thick, sturdy steel doors.

But the moment he kissed her, those doors burst open, shattering into a million pieces.

He felt alive in a way he never had before. This had to be what it felt like to fly, to be so free, so unhindered by anything, not even gravity.

His head spun, his heart raced, and his world narrowed to nothing but her. She was everything. Every light and kindness and beauty in the world paled next to her. She became his world. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed but her and the feeling of her hands resting on his chest, the softness of her hair and caress of her cheek beneath his hand...

And her lips as they pressed against his, without surprise or refusal, willingly, eagerly returning his kiss.

Surely this must be what heaven was like.

He never wanted it to end...

End.

Something in his brain finally burst free of its confines, screaming at him with a panic that shattered everything.

He jerked away as if burned and stumbled back, placing some distance between them.

"I'm sorry," he breathed. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't- I had no right... I'm sorry." He looked around, his expression a heartbreaking mixture of agonized and frantic. "I should go."

He all but ran to the door.

"Henry!" Abigail called. "Henry, wait!"

He didn't stop, practically lunging through the door and nearly running once outside.

How could he have been so stupid? He never should have let that happen. He'd ruined everything. She was with Frank, and he... He'd betrayed him. He'd betrayed them both. She could never feel the same way he did, and now she would have nothing more to do with him. He'd crossed a line.

In the shadows of a nearby building, he stopped, leaning against it. He crossed his arms, shivering slightly in the frigid night air. In his haste to get away, he'd forgotten his coat, but there was no way he was going back for it.

He closed his eyes, anguish rolling through him. The kiss had been like nothing he'd ever felt before. And she had kissed him back, just for a moment, and likely on reflex, but for that moment, he'd felt... He'd felt like, for the first time in his life, everything was right with the world. Like anything was possible, and true love and happiness were really attainable, even for someone like him.

It had been wondrous, and breathtaking, and something he would cherish for the rest of his life.

Even knowing he'd likely lost her friendship, he couldn't completely regret it, any more than he could bring himself to regret falling in love with her.

His heart stuttered in his chest.

He hadn't let himself admit it. Had tried so hard to deny it, but he just couldn't convince himself anymore.

Deep down, he'd always known the real reason he'd chosen to come back here, to Hope Valley.

He came back because of her.

Because... for all his efforts to stop it, he'd fallen in love with her.

He stood, frozen. He'd never let himself admit it before, not even within the confines of his own mind.

But it was true.

He loved her.

He loved her so much it hurt, because he knew she could never love him back. She was his friend. That was all. The kindness she had shown him was just who she was.

He scrubbed his hands over his face.

How could he have let this happen? How could he have let himself fall for someone he could never have?

But as painful as it was, he wouldn't give that up for anything. That love had changed him and his outlook on the world. It had made him a better man, someone people actually liked to associate with. It had opened the door to friendships that never would have happened otherwise, and had rescued him from the torturous loneliness that his previous attitude and way of life had created. But even more than that, he'd tasted real happiness, the kind that no money or power had ever brought him.

Her kindness and belief in him had meant everything during a time when most had turned their backs on him, and the rest, he'd managed to push away. He thought maybe that was when he'd first really started falling for her. Oh sure, he'd been attracted to her for a long time, but he hadn't known love, real love, until that Christmas, after his car crash, when she had all but forced him to stop pushing everyone away and accept her friendship.

From there, it hadn't taken long for him to fall and fall hard. Now, it wasn't just attraction anymore, and hadn't been for a long time. He didn't just want her affections, he wanted to be near her, to hear her voice and see her smile and make her laugh. He wanted to solve all of her problems. He wanted to give her everything, to live or die for her, and in return, he wanted nothing more than the chance to see her, talk to her, and know she was happy.

He loved her with all of his heart, a pure, self-sacrificing kind of love.

And heaven help him, he'd even grown to love her kids too. He'd never particularly liked or disliked kids before. They were just kind of there. But after the short time he'd gotten to talk with Becky on their ride from the train station last Christmas, and spending so much time with Cody, he suddenly couldn't imagine his life without them in it. At what point had he come to love talking to the boy, walking him home after school, teaching him things, watching him play with his dog, hearing news of Becky and how she was doing in school, eating dinner with Cody and Abigail? When had doing so become routine for him? When had he started wanting so badly to be part of their family?

Had he ruined it all? Would she cut him out of her life now? Would Cody?

His heart stuttered and nearly broke as another thought occurred to him.

What about Frank? How could he ever look the man in the eye again? Frank had only been a friend to him, and he'd betrayed that kindness. He couldn't keep this a secret, but how was he supposed to come out with it, admit it to anyone? And what about Frank and Abigail's relationship? Had he damaged that with his thoughtless actions? Or even worse, would he have to someday watch her marry Frank? To watch him become a father to Cody and Becky?

He nearly doubled over from the pain in his chest, gasping harshly. He couldn't do it. He couldn't stay in this town if that happened. He'd never be able to bear it. And yet, the very thought of leaving and never seeing any of them again was almost enough to send him to his knees.

His heart clenched painfully, and his stomach felt like he'd been punched in the gut. He let out a shuddering breath.

"Oh, Lord, what do I do?" he breathed, desperately blinking back tears. "What do I do?"

He never should have come back here.

 **)()()(**

When Frank had originally decided to stop by the cafe on his way home for the night, he'd thought it was a good idea.

He had barely seen, and spent even less time with Abigail or Cody for... wow, going on a few months now. It seemed like some, or all of them were always busy with something and never could seem to connect. So, stopping by the cafe for a few minutes on his way home, sounded like a great way to start to remedy that problem.

However, as he watched Henry flee out the back door, it finally hit him that maybe he shouldn't have come after all.

Taking a step forward, he left the shadows of the main room and fully entered the softly lit kitchen.

Hearing him, Abigail spun around, her expression startled, almost panicked.

"Frank," she breathed, clearly not knowing what to say or do. Or, probably, wondering how much he'd seen. "I, uh... What are you doing here?"

"I saw, Abigail," he said quietly.

She closed her eyes for a long moment.

Yes, he had seen all right, and part of him wanted to be angry, to wish he'd never walked into the cafe tonight, but he just couldn't seem to feel that way. He couldn't be angry because... Well, if he were being honest, he hadn't been completely blind to the truth. Some part of him had even seen this coming. And, as for regretting coming there... As much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew there was a reason he'd made that decision, instead of just going home. This had been meant to happen. He'd been meant to see it, had needed to see it, so he could realize... So he could realize what he should have a long time ago.

"I'm so sorry, Frank. I never meant for it to happen," she said softly.

"I know," he said, just as softly. "It's not your fault."

"I should have stopped it before it happened. I-"

"I wasn't talking about...," he winced, "the kiss, Abigail."

"Then, what...?"

"I was talking about you falling in love with him."

"What? No! I'm not-" she shook her head, trying to deny it, even to herself, but something in her eyes...

"I've seen the way you look at him, the way you smile when you're around him," he said, his heart heavy, but knowing the words he was saying were the right ones... for both of them.

"Frank, I don't-" she started to shake her head again, but he cut her off, stepping forward to gently take her hands in his.

"I care about you, Abigail, so much," he said, his voice and expression sad, "but I don't look at you the way he does."

"What do you mean?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Like a drowning man who's just seen his salvation," Frank said. "That's how he looks at you, every time."

Frank did care about her, deeply, but he knew they weren't meant for each other. Some part of him had known for a while now, but... it was just so hard to let go sometimes.

She looked away, her eyes bright and expression conflicted, as if she knew he was right but didn't want to admit it.

"He loves you, Abigail, and he needs you. I think, more than he even realizes." He squeezed her hands softly. "And I think you need him too."

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly reached up to wipe it away. "I never meant to hurt you," she whispered.

"I know." He wiped away another tear from her face, his own eyes bright. "I will always care about you, Abigail. And I'll always be your friend."

Abigail nodded. "I'm sorry."

"Me too," he said softly. Stepping closer, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.

Then he turned and slowly left the cafe.

 **)()()(**

As the door shut behind Frank, Abigail stared after him, reeling. Sorrow swirled amid her shock. What had just happened? What had she done? How...

She'd never meant for this to happen. She had never ever wanted to hurt Frank like this, but she had. As unintentional as it had been, she had betrayed him, and he wasn't even angry about it, had simply accepted it.

It was so unbelievably more than she deserved.

She swiped at another stubborn tear and took in a shaky breath. How had the evening gone from completely normal to everything suddenly changing forever?

She'd just been talking to Henry like she had so many times since his return. Then they'd started teasing each other, which had led to that silly playfulness. Then...

Then everything had changed.

She brushed her fingertips over her lips.

She wasn't even sure how it had happened. It just had, and now...

She let out a shuddering breath, her vision blurring again.

Frank was right. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right. She'd seen the way Henry looked at her but had ignored it, had convinced herself it was just friendship that had grown between them.

She'd been laughably lying to herself.

Because, for all she cared about Frank, the way she felt around Henry... the way she'd felt when she'd been in his arms, and when he'd kissed her... She hadn't felt like that since...

Noah.

Not since her husband, had she felt this kind of... love. It was the only word for it. Not affection, or attraction, or care, but love. She loved him, more deeply than she had thought herself ever capable of again after Noah's death.

She sank into a nearby chair and covered her mouth with her hand, both overwhelmed and confusingly elated by the realization.

She loved Henry Gowan.

Oh, Lord, what was she going to do?

* * *

 **A/N So? Thoughts? Let me know what you think! Next chapter will be up in about a week. :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N So, a quick note, guys. I know I've been updating this story twice a week up until now, but due to real life getting busy on me, I can't keep up with that schedule for the time being (I have to sleep sometime :P). So, for now, this will be updated once a week, on every Friday. I guarantee there will always be a minimum of one chapter a week, so don't worry about long waits or abandonment. I just can't keep up with twice a week at the moment. Sorry! But I want to make sure I give you all quality rather than just quantity. :)**

 **Chapter 11**

After leaving the cafe, Henry had wanted to run straight to the church, but somehow, he didn't think he'd find much solace there tonight. And the last thing he wanted to do now was run into Frank. Call him a coward, but he couldn't face the man. Certainly not tonight, and maybe not ever.

He'd gone straight home, his emotions all over the place and his thoughts even more so. He didn't bother to light up his house. He knew this place blindfolded. And despite the teeth-chattering chill that had overtaken him during his walk home, he also didn't bother to start a fire. He just didn't care.

He wrapped his arms around himself, not entirely sure if the action was an attempt at warmth, or an instinctive, but ultimately vain attempt to protect himself from the emotions running rampant through him. He lowered himself into a chair in the living room and simply sat in the darkness, trying to understand, to unravel everything he was feeling, to get a handle on it all.

A part of him felt... elated, overjoyed. He'd heard love did that to a person. But people didn't usually mention the other side, the pain that could come with it. He felt raw, broken, as if his heart and soul had been shredded. He'd tasted joy, had felt true happiness for one long, wonderful moment, and then it had all been snatched away from him by the cruelty of reality.

To feel that, to be so close to something so amazing, and to know he could never have it... Grief squeezed his chest until he felt like he couldn't breathe.

A shuddering breath, bordering on a sob, ripped free from his throat, and when the tears came, he didn't try to stop them.

He didn't know how he could grieve something that he'd never had, something that had never been his to begin with, but it was tearing him apart.

He leaned over, elbows on his knees and face buried in his hands as he just tried to breathe, trying to escape the pain that clawed inside his chest, ripping him open with every beat of his heart.

When the sun rose, he was still sitting there. He felt drained, defeated. He was fractured into too many pieces, so beaten down by life, he didn't think he'd ever be able to get back up again.

He tried opening his Bible to find comfort, but none came, and the words blurred before his eyes when he remembered who had given the book to him.

He might have sat there forever, but as the hours ticked by and the sunlight peeking through the window slowly moved across the floor, something within him refused to let him remain in his silent daze of sorrow. He had to face it eventually. He couldn't sit there, hiding, indefinitely. He owed too many people too much to do that.

When he finally stood, he felt weak and unbalanced, as if he'd forgotten how to walk. Moving slowly, he found his way to the front door and reached for his coat, only to remember he'd left it at Abigail's. He turned and wandered into his bedroom to get another out of his closet, and shakily pulled it on.

As he did so, a pair of gloves fell out of one of the pockets. Rather than expend the energy it would take to put them away, he simply picked them up and shoved them back into his coat pocket.

With a sigh, he moved toward his bedroom door, but as he reached it, he stopped. Leaning against the door frame, he closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaustion pulling at him from every direction. He took in a deep breath that came out far more shaky than he would have liked, as he struggled to find some way, any way to steady and pull himself together.

It was some minutes before he managed to drag himself to his front door and finally leave his house. He squinted at the too bright, too harsh sunlight and started walking. He moved slowly, head down and shoulders hunched, feeling weighed down by too many emotions and zero sleep.

He was about halfway to the cafe when movement caught his eye, and he idly looked up. What he saw, pulled him up short.

Jack and Bill were standing across the street, Lee and Elizabeth with them. The four were having some kind of exchange, and it didn't look friendly or relaxed. It looked alarmed, distressed. Something was wrong.

He stepped off the sidewalk and headed toward them. If he was stalling dealing with his own problems, then at least he had a valid reason.

Before he reached the group, Elizabeth and Lee turned and took off running somewhere, their whole demeanor screaming urgency.

He quickened his pace.

"Jack! Bill!"

The two men turned toward him as he approached.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Cody's missing," Jack replied.

Henry's heart actually stopped. "What do you mean, missing?" he demanded.

"No one has seen him for hours," Bill said. "He left earlier this morning with Dasher, but the dog came back just now without him, barking his head off."

"We're headed out to look for him, but we don't even know where to start," Jack added.

Henry felt the blood drain from his face, and his eyes widened. "The river! Jack, he likes to take Dasher to the river sometimes."

The three men met each other's eyes, the significance of that not lost on any of them.

The last week had seen a cold snap bad enough for the river to freeze. It didn't happen often, but wasn't entirely uncommon either. However, even when it did freeze, it was never for very long at a time, and it was never solid enough to be safe to venture out on. In addition to that, the weather was gradually starting to warm up to a more manageable temperature with each passing day, which meant the ice would be slowly thinning even further.

"Cody knows better, but, if he goes out on the ice..." Henry whispered.

"We've got to find him," Bill agreed as he and Jack moved toward their horses tied nearby.

"I'm coming with you," Henry said.

Jack met his eyes for only a moment before giving him a quick a nod. "Elizabeth and Lee went to the stables to get horses. Mount up."

"Thank you," Henry said fervently before running to the stables.

Slipping inside, he saw Elizabeth and Lee in the middle of saddling their mounts. Grabbing a nearby saddle and blanket, Henry threw both onto the back of the horse closest to him. It was one of the handful in the barn that were available to rent, so wasn't privately owned by someone. With no time to seek out the stable owner, he resolved to pay the man later as he pulled the saddle up tight and slipped the bit into the horse's mouth, securing the bridle behind its ears.

He was momentarily proud of himself as he swung up into the saddle in time to see Elizabeth and Lee doing the same. Despite them having arrived before him, he hadn't held them up or made anyone have to wait on him.

Remembering the gloves he'd picked up earlier, he quickly retrieved them from his pocket and pulled them on, suddenly very grateful he'd brought them along. As cold as it still was, riding all the way to the river with bare hands wouldn't be pleasant.

The three of them exited the barn, but as they trotted to rejoin Bill and Jack, they passed by the cafe.

"Henry!"

He instantly pulled his horse to a stop and turned to see Abigail standing on the front walkway of the cafe. Her face said it all. She was terrified.

Everything in him wanted to leap off his horse and wrap her in his arms, to just hold her and try to lessen the fear he saw there.

But that wasn't his place. It was Frank's.

He gritted his teeth against the flash of pain at the very thought and violently shoved it aside. Now wasn't the time.

"We'll find him," He vowed. He refused to come back until they did.

She nodded and looked like she wanted to say more but held back.

He held her eyes for another long moment. There was so much there, so much between them now that needed to be said but would have to wait.

Forcing himself to break eye contact, he turned and urged his horse into a lope to catch up with Elizabeth and Lee where they had rejoined Bill and Jack and were briefly waiting for him.

As he approached, the others turned their horses and moved to match his speed. By the time they had, he'd caught up to them.

As a group, and without another word exchanged between any of them, the five pointed their mounts toward the river and spurred the horses as fast as the animals would go.

 **)()()(**

As they sprinted toward the river, Henry all but forgot about his own problems, shoving everything aside as they ran. Whatever he was going through with Abigail didn't matter as long as Cody was in danger.

If the boy had decided to wander out onto the ice and it gave out under him...

His heart seized painfully, and a raw, deep fear squeezed the breath out of him.

 _Please, God, let him still be alive,_ he desperately prayed.

Abigail couldn't lose another child. And he... The mere thought of Cody dying, instilled a terror in him that nothing else ever had.

 _Please._

Jack pulled his horse to a stop, the rest of them following suit.

They were near to where the river emerged from the rocky, mountainous terrain it usually flowed down from. Cody wouldn't have been able to wander up that way even if he'd wanted to. From here, they could head downstream to start looking for him.

"Bill, Lee, I want you two to take the other side of the river. There's a good spot to cross right around there." He pointed through the trees toward a spot that looked like it might be narrow and shallow enough to easily get the horses across without any danger. "The rest of us will search this side."

Bill and Lee nodded and turned their horses toward the crossing spot. As the two horses tentatively stepped on the ice, it cracked and broke. As Henry had thought, the water was shallow, rising just above the horses' fetlocks as their hooves safely settled on the rocky base beneath. Bill and Lee made the cross without incident, but every step their horses took, easily broke through the weakened ice.

A knot formed in Henry's stomach as he fervently hoped the rest of the river wasn't so thin.

Once Lee and Bill were safely across, the rest of them began to move their mounts downriver, searching and maneuvering through the trees and along the bank as they called Cody's name.

Several minutes of this slow, methodical searching passed before Henry couldn't stand it anymore. It was taking too long. His panic and worry only grew with every passing moment, until he felt like he was either going to explode or fall apart.

"Jack," he called. "I'm going to take off and do a more cursory search, try to speed it up while you two keep being thorough."

"That's a good idea," he agreed.

Henry honestly wasn't sure if Jack really thought so, or if the Mountie simply saw the desperation in his eyes. It didn't matter. The moment he had the go ahead, Henry took off, loping his horse along the bank and skimming over the icy surface for any sign of a boy or... or any holes in the ice.

He searched for several minutes without seeing anything, following the winding river farther and farther as it grew and widened, looking more like a narrow lake than a wide river, in some places. But finally, as he rounded yet another bend, his heart leapt with hope. There, out on the ice, was a small figure, crouched next to a small, leafless tree sticking up through the ice.

 _Thank you, Lord!_

The moment he saw him, Henry knew it was Cody. He easily recognized the boy's frame and even knew the coat he was wearing. And when had that happened?

"Jack! Bill! I found him!" he yelled back the way he'd come, hoping they could hear him. He sprinted his horse the remaining distance and skidded to a stop at the river's edge.

"Cody!" he cried, dismounting.

Cody's head snapped around and relief flooded his face upon seeing Henry.

"Mister Henry!"

"Are you hurt?" he asked.

"No," the boy shook his head. "But I'm stuck!"

From his vantage point, Henry could see Cody's arm resting against the tree. At first, he'd assumed the boy was inspecting or playing with it somehow, but now he could see that Cody was actually trying to pull away from it and wasn't having any success.

"Stay still," he ordered, and the boy stopped moving. "I'm coming to you."

Very cautiously, he stepped out onto the ice, feeling a fair amount of relief when it held his weight. Careful to keep his footing on the slick surface, he slowly made his way out toward the center of the river where Cody was.

"I didn't mean to come out here, honest," Cody said, sounding scared.

"I know you didn't, Cody," Henry quickly assured. "I know you know better than to go out on the ice."

The boy nodded, still looking distressed.

"It's going to be okay," Henry said, still carefully moving toward him. "And you're not in any trouble, I promise."

"I didn't mean to worry anyone," Cody said.

"I know you didn't, Son," Henry said, the last word just slipping out, unbidden, surprising himself.

Cody didn't seem to take any offense to it, though. In fact, the boy seemed to relax the more Henry spoke and the closer he got.

"Why don't you tell me what did happen?" Henry asked, more to keep Cody talking and distracted than anything. He didn't particularly care how it had happened. All he cared about was getting his– _the_ boy back to safety.

"I was playing with Dasher and the ball rolled out on the ice. It didn't go very far so I thought I could reach it from the bank, but I slipped and fell. Every time I tried to get up, I kept slipping until I was way out here. I thought I could use the tree to try to stand back up, or at least push off of to try to get back or something, but I slipped again and my arm got caught. And Dasher ran off a little while ago. I don't know where he went," Cody finished worriedly.

"It's okay. He came back to town," Henry assured. "That's how we knew something was wrong. He's back with your mom."

Relief shone in the boy's eyes at the news.

Finally reaching him, Henry grabbed hold of the tree and carefully crouched down next to Cody, hiding a grimace as his knee briefly protested the action. He reached out and rested a hand on the boy's back, needing the reassurance as much as Cody did.

At once, he could see the problem. It wasn't so much Cody's arm that was caught, but his sleeve. It was wedged, hopelessly tight, in a split between two of the branches. This wouldn't have been a problem in most cases. Cody could have just slipped out of the coat. Unfortunately, it was caught in such a way, that the cuff was now so tight that Cody couldn't get his arm out of the coat to get free. And to make it worse, Cody's hand was slightly wedged as well, keeping him from being able to move enough to possibly loosen the cuff so his hand could slip out.

"Ah, this is no big deal," Henry said, sounding as nonchalant as possible to put the boy at ease.

The solution was actually easy enough with the right tool. Pulling his gloves off, Henry sent up a quick prayer of profuse gratitude that he actually had a small knife with him.

"I'll have you loose in no time," he said with a smile as he pulled his knife from his pocket and held it up for Cody to see. "Always carry a knife, just in case."

Cody actually smiled, more out of relief than anything, but Henry was glad to see it anyway.

Opening up the knife, he maneuvered so he had access to Cody's sleeve, but was safely away from the boy's hand.

"I'll have you free in no time. Just hang tight."

Cody actually laughed at the pun and Henry grinned in success.

"Henry!"

Henry turned and saw Jack pull his horse to a stop and dismount on the bank. Elizabeth, Bill, and Lee were nowhere to be seen, but Henry would have to wonder about that later.

"He's fine!" Henry called. "His coat is caught on the tree, and he can't get loose. I'm going to cut him free."

Jack nodded, looking like he wanted to head out onto the ice as well, but knew better. One of them was all they needed to risk. Another person wouldn't be helpful and would only increase the danger.

"Be careful," he said unnecessarily, needing, Henry knew, to just say something as he watched helplessly.

Henry nodded and turned back to the task at hand. Carefully applying the knife to the taught fabric, he sawed back and forth just slightly. With only a few strokes, the sleeve gave way and Cody pulled his arm free. Henry folded and pocketed his knife just in time for two small arms to wrap around his neck as a small body launched itself at him.

He caught the boy on reflex and held him close, feeling just as much relief that Cody was alright as Cody felt at being rescued.

"Thank you," Cody said.

"Always, Son," Henry murmured, unable to hold back the wholly genuine sentiment.

The moment could only last so long, though. They were still out on the ice and had a return journey that was not without risk.

Putting his gloves back on and carefully pulling himself back to his feet, he gripped Cody's shoulders, steadying the boy as they began the return trip. Once again, it was slow going. Neither of them wanted to risk sliding down and ending up right back where they'd started, or worse, hitting the ice hard enough to break it. And being near the middle of one of the widest parts of the river, ensured it wasn't an altogether short distance to traverse either.

They were well over halfway back to the bank, only slightly less than ten feet to go, when it happened.

He heard it first. The loud, unmistakable sound of cracking, breaking.

He froze instantly, his arms instinctively wrapping fully around Cody from behind and holding him tightly.

"Don't move!" he hissed.

"Henry!" Jack yelled at the same time, his eyes fixed on the ice beneath them.

Henry glanced down. Lines spiderwebbed around their feet. The ice was giving out under them. It was holding for the moment, but it wouldn't last, and if they moved at all, the results would be instantaneous.

"Don't move," he breathed again.

Cody didn't.

The boy stood stock still, his back pressed securely against him, and his small hands clenched in the sleeves of Henry's coat, holding on for dear life to the strong arms that held him protectively.

The sound of horses coming to a stop on the bank behind them, briefly caught Henry's attention. Likely Lee and Bill, but he dared not try to look.

He could hear the faint sounds of the ice continuing to creak and groan, and could feel how unstable it was beneath them, how weak. They were out of time. He had moments to act, if that.

They were too far away from the bank. He'd never be able to bridge it... But he had to try. The alternative was unacceptable.

 _Please, God. Please let this work. Please save him._

"Cody," he whispered. "I need you to trust me."

The boy didn't even twitch a nod, but his voice was devoid of hesitance when he whispered back. "I do."

Henry nearly gasped in wonder at the simple, certain faith in him that rang in the boy's voice, but there was no time to reflect on it.

"Jack," he said softly, meeting the Mountie's fearful gaze.

Jack's brow furrowed slightly, his eyes narrowing questioningly at him, before going wide with realization.

"Henry-!"

He channeled all of his fear, desperation, and love for Cody into one surge of strength, more than he'd ever known he possessed, perhaps more than he actually had possessed until he'd needed it so badly.

He yanked Cody off his feet, the boy letting out a startled yelp as he was launched into the air toward Jack. The effort was too much for the weakened ice, but Henry had enough time to see Cody just barely clear the seemingly impossible distance, and be securely caught by Jack, safe on the edge of the riverbank.

Then he was weightless.

* * *

 **A/N I know, mean cliffhanger, but prepare yourselves, because the cliffhangers are only going to get worse from here. Sorry(ish). ;) But tell me the truth, did any of you see _that_ coming? If so, then I didn't do my job as a writer very well. I hope you guys were surprised by this twist and I hope you liked it too! But the only way I can know for sure, is if you take just a few moments to leave a quick review. Until next week! :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N This story is starting to get _good_! At least, I think so, and I really hope you guys agree. The previous two chapters, this chapter, and quite a bit of what I have planned coming up, are some of my favorite parts of this whole story, so I'm really excited to finally be able to get to this section of the story so I can start sharing it with all of you. Enjoy! :)**

 **Chapter 12**

Cold, the likes of which he'd never experienced in his life, enveloped him. He'd felt cold before. Like any person, he knew what it was like for his hands or face to ache with too much cold, but this... This was instantly painful, a deep, all-encompassing, bone-aching cold. He felt like he was being stabbed and crushed at the same time, and the shock of it nearly stole his breath.

The water had somehow morphed from a harmless, often beneficial substance, into a monster, mercilessly seeking to consume him.

His muscles locked up and his hands went instantly numb. The coat he wore did nothing but weigh him down, only aiding the water in its effort to kill him.

He had to do something. He had to get to the surface, get out of the water, but his thoughts were sluggish, as if the cold had managed to seep all the way into his brain.

He idly wondered if his lungs were burning for air yet. He was pretty sure he wouldn't even be able to feel it if they were.

He drifted, physically and mentally. Was he drowning? Was he dying? He wasn't sure. But maybe it was for the best. After everything that had happened, did he really want to go back and face it? Maybe this was it for him. Maybe this was why he'd come back here, so he could save Cody. Maybe that's all any of it was for.

Cody was safe. That was what mattered. He didn't matter...

Through his dim, wandering, fading thoughts, a face appeared.

Abigail.

In his mind's eye, she was smiling. It was that smile that made his heart stutter in his chest and made him want to do whatever it took to keep it from ever fading. The memory of her sweet, warm laughter rang through his mind, so clear he could have sworn he'd heard it with his ears, as she seemed to turn and look right at him.

"Henry."

The voice was soft, gentle. Oh, how he loved when she said his name like that. That warm, caring tone, and the fondness in her eyes as she looked at him.

At the sound of her voice, something sparked in the back of his mind, some shred of self-preservation kicking in and refusing to allow him to just let go. Refusing to let her go. He mentally shook himself, and finally moved... or tried to.

His arms were slow and clumsy, as the numbness spread. Trying again, he managed more movement, but no less clumsy. Whatever worked.

Adding his legs to the mix, he floundered more than swam, but it seemed to be working. He thought he might be rising somewhat. Or he could just be getting lightheaded. He really wasn't certain of anything anymore.

When his head finally broke the surface, he was somehow more surprised than when he'd gone under. Apparently, preservation instincts were not tied to the "realistic expectations" part of his brain.

His head cleared the surface only slightly, just enough to gulp in a huge breath of air and regain some awareness before he slipped under the water again.

This time, he flailed.

Oh, so _now_ the panic finally sets in? He could have used that earlier.

The thrashing worked to get him above the surface again, and he sucked in another painful lungful of cold air, ever so grateful there was no current in the river right now. Otherwise, he would have been swept away from the hole and trapped beneath the ice. That, however, was the least of his problems now.

The cold and his soaked clothing pulled at him, sapping all of his energy and making it almost impossible to tread water. For the moment, he was managing, but that was only because of the adrenalin surging through his bloodstream, which wouldn't last long.

Reaching out, he tried to grab on to the ice around him, but the moment he put any force on it, it broke off beneath his weight. Trying again, he thought he had it for a moment, but the ice gave out again and he slipped under the surface once more.

Before he could stop himself, he sucked in a shallow, surprised gasp.

He choked, and in that moment, his brain was certain that his lungs were being carved right out of his chest. Stabbing didn't describe it. It was fire and ice, and pain and agony, all rolled up within a rending, tearing feeling as icy water hit his fragile lungs.

He thrashed violently as fear gripped him. He was going to drown. He was going to die. And he was scared. More scared than he'd ever been in his life.

 _God, please don't let me die!_

Breaking the surface once more, hacking, choking coughs spewed the water from his lungs. He sucked in air and coughed harshly again, his lungs deciding to deem the frigid air just as toxic as the water.

Struggling to breathe with lungs that refused to expand, Henry reached for the ice one last time. If it gave out under him this time, he knew he wouldn't have the strength to try again. The next time he went under, he wouldn't be coming back up.

Despite his fatigue and panic, he forced himself to go as slowly as possible, which, by this point, wasn't very slow or careful as his fine motor skills escaped him. But at least he wasn't flailing or struggling desperately for a handhold. As gently as he could manage, he got his left arm up over the lip of the ice, still treading water as best he could to alleviate the strain he was putting on the fragile surface.

Gradually, he allowed the ice to take more of his weight. When it held, he cautiously stopped treading water with his right arm and slowly reached out toward the ice, keeping some distance between his arms to disperse his weight more evenly across the surface.

He waited a beat, still sluggishly kicking his legs, until he just couldn't keep it up. He was so tired, his breaths coming as pained gasps, amid rounds of wracking coughs. Every breath felt like he was being stabbed in the chest, his head swam dizzyingly, and he couldn't get enough air. If he went under now, so be it. He didn't have anything left.

He stopped moving and just hung there, his arms more or less holding on to the ice and keeping his head and shoulders above the surface, while the rest of his body remained in the water.

"Thank you," he whispered, panting harshly, and only then felt himself shaking. Jerky, painful tremors wracked his frame as his body fought a rapidly losing battle against hypothermia.

"Henry."

The call was faint at first. And how had he not realized his ears were ringing so badly, he literally couldn't hear anything else?

"Henry!"

The sound got louder as his ears began to adjust, and his hearing cleared.

"Mister Henry?"

It was Cody's familiar, but frightened voice that finally got through to him.

With effort, he raised his head (When had he lowered it to rest against the edge of the ice?). In front of him, calling his name, was Jack. The Mountie was ever in control, but despite trying to hide it, Henry could see the fear in his eyes. The man looked about as terrified as Henry had been just moments? minutes? before.

Letting his eyes skirt past the Mountie, he finally found who he was looking for. Standing some distance away, higher up on the bank, was Elizabeth, her arms around Cody who was looking at him fearfully. He wished he could reassure the boy, but that was a bit hard to do when there was very little reassurance to be found at the moment. And he wasn't going to blatantly lie to him either.

"Henry? Talk to us."

Oh yeah, Jack had been calling him too.

Shifting his gaze back to the Mountie, he struggled to get his tongue to cooperate enough to form words.

"I'm..." He trailed off.

'Okay' was not anywhere near the truth. 'Fine' was an equally stupid response, laughably so. And stating that he was freezing was unnecessarily alarming, not to mention obvious. Finally, he settled on just shaking his head.

"Henry, don't move. Stay completely still. We're going to get you out."

Huh. When had Bill gotten there? Hadn't he been on the opposite bank just... How long ago was that? It felt like hours since he'd fallen through the ice but knew that couldn't be true. He would literally freeze to death in much less than an hour in the condition he was currently in.

He nodded sluggishly. Just stay still. That was easier said than done as his body continued to jerk and twitch with cold and fatigue.

Blinking hard, he focused his bleary gaze on the nearby bank again. Jack was closest, standing just at the edge of where land ended and ice began, doing... something with a rope. Henry really hoped they weren't going to throw it to him. There was no way he could even move to catch it, let alone hold on to it. His hands wouldn't move, and he'd long since stopped being able to feel them, or his feet for that matter. Part of him was glad he couldn't see his hands beneath his gloves. He wasn't sure he wanted to know if they had turned blue yet. Or was it purple? What color was the bad one? How fast did frostbite happen? Henry shook his head, deciding he didn't really want to know anyway. He was bad enough off as it was.

The only reason he was even still above water was because his gloves and the sleeves of his coat had managed to freeze to the top of the ice, holding him in place. Otherwise, he'd have slipped off and gone under long ago.

Deciding to deal with the rope problem if, or when, it presented itself, he looked next to the Mountie to see Bill helping Jack with the rope. Henry was too tired to try to figure out what they were doing and moved his gaze along. Lee was a few feet farther away, next to one of the horses. Was that the horse he'd been riding? It didn't look like Lee's or Bill's, and it couldn't be Jack's as Lee was busy tying off the end of the rope to the saddle horn, something Jack's saddle didn't have.

Seriously, though, what was with them and this rope?

Farther past the three men, his gaze once more landed on Cody and Elizabeth. When had she gotten there, anyway? It finally occurred to him that she hadn't been there when he'd first gone under. Well, he didn't care when she had gotten there. He was just glad she was there for Cody, holding him close, trying to comfort him, as they both watched worriedly. The boy was scared enough without having to watch all of this alone while the men tried to save Henry.

Another particularly painful shiver flowed through him. There wasn't a muscle in his body that wasn't trembling with cold and fatigue, and he was certain his teeth would be chattering uncontrollably if he wasn't gritting them so fiercely. He knew the longer he stayed in the water, the more danger his life was in.

He also knew that his friends knew this too.

Wait. When had he started mentally referring to them as his friends?

Sure, he'd felt a certain camaraderie with them that usually only came from friendship, and at some point or another, most of them had even referred to him as a friend, but he hadn't really let himself fully think of _them_ as "friends," too afraid he'd somehow jinx himself or something.

"Jack, be careful."

Henry's attention was jerked back to the outside world by Bill's voice.

In front of him, Jack was on his knees, slowly reaching out to press his gloved hands against the ice.

What was he doing?

Henry wanted to ask, but was beyond speech at this point, his jaw too locked up by the cold.

A moment later, he had his answer as Jack lowered himself to lay face down on the ice. Then he started carefully sliding himself across it, slowly making his way toward Henry.

As he got closer, Henry finally took note of the rope tied around the Mountie's chest and followed it back to where Bill stood, holding most of the slack and slowly feeding it out as Jack moved, then farther, as the rope ended where Lee had tied it to the saddle on Henry's mount.

Henry wasn't sure if he should be concerned that it had taken him this long to put such simple, visual clues together into a coherent set of actions.

"Hang on, Henry," Jack said softly.

If he could have spoken, Henry would have informed the Mountie that he didn't have much choice at this point. Ultimately, Henry didn't respond in any way. It wasn't worth it, and didn't really matter anyway. So all he did was continue to hang there, frozen to the ice and shaking violently.

It felt like an eternity before Jack finally covered the distance between them.

Carefully, the Mountie reached out and grabbed both of Henry's wrists. Hopefully, if the ice gave out under him again, Jack could keep him from drowning, because Henry was beyond being able to do that now.

"Easy, Henry," Jack murmured. "We're going to take this slow."

"C-c-c-can't h-h-help," Henry forced out, feeling compelled to let Jack know he was on his own.

"It's okay," Jack assured. "It's okay. I've got you."

Jack inched closer until he could grip Henry's shoulders. Keeping one hand fisted in Henry's coat, Jack gently peeled Henry's sleeves away from the ice, freeing up arms that were mostly useless at this point.

A brief shot of panic surged through Henry when he slipped slightly as his only hold on the ice was broken.

"I've got you," Jack quickly assured, both hands gripping the back of Henry's coat.

It took all of Henry's remaining will power not to struggle instinctively. If he did that, he'd likely break the ice further, and they'd both go under. He forced his body to go still. Well, aside from the shivering, anyway.

"That's it, Henry," Jack said. "Just stay as still as you can."

Carefully, Jack pulled Henry up a little higher out of the water, until he could slip first one arm, then the other, underneath Henry's, giving him a much more secure hold on the freezing man.

"All right, Bill," Jack called over his shoulder.

Henry wasn't sure what Jack was calling for until the Mountie started to move backward slightly, pulling Henry with him. As they moved, Henry got a quick glimpse behind Jack. Lee was slowly riding Henry's horse away from the bank while Bill helped pull and guide the rope that was gradually sliding Jack back toward land.

With a grunt of effort, Jack managed to get Henry half out of the water, first his shoulders, then his chest and upper body cleared the edge of the ice. One more strong pull, and Henry was completely out of the water.

The relief he felt at being on a solid surface again was shockingly, painfully, and dismayingly overshadowed by the needle-like fingers of the air suddenly cutting through his soaked clothing. The water had been bad, but this... This was a whole new type of torture.

His shivering increased, and as the rope slid the two of them across the remaining ice, he was helpless to do anything more than be dragged along, no longer possessing the strength or motor control to do anything other than hamper Jack's efforts.

When they finally, blessedly, reached land, Henry felt two sets of hands on him, pulling him up onto the ground and away from the treacherous ice.

"We have to get him back to town, fast," someone (Jack?) said to... Bill?

Henry was shaking so hard he couldn't see clearly enough, but he was pretty sure those were the two faces above him. He thought he heard another voice say something, followed by another short exchange, but he'd stopped listening, his eyes slipping closed as he slightly curled in on himself. He couldn't remember what it felt like to be warm anymore.

There were more hands on him, trying to force him to uncurl. He would have fought them, he was so cold, but he didn't have the strength. He was too tired.

He briefly lost track of what was going on around him but snapped back to awareness as he felt his coat being tugged free from his arms. His eyes flew open, and he weakly struggled against the hands trying to remove his shirt.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Henry," Jack said, grabbing his wrists to stop his clumsy movements. "We've got to try to dry you off some. It's the only way we can start warming you up."

Some part of Henry's brain knew Jack was right, but he hated it. Instinct told him not to remove layers, that would only lead to being even colder, which Henry wasn't sure was even possible at this point.

But he was too tired to fight back and trusted Jack enough to stop struggling.

And when had that happened? Maybe his brain really was frozen. Or maybe he did trust Jack. The Mountie had certainly proven himself worthy of it on more than one occasion. He'd have to think about it later. He wasn't coherent enough to figure it out right now as his shirt was pulled away from his skin, leaving his chest and back exposed to the merciless air.

His shivers became so violent, he was sure they qualified as convulsions now.

Only a moment later, new fabric wrapped around his torso. It was rougher than his shirt but was wonderfully, blessedly dry, and wasn't cold, which by definition, meant it felt warm to him. He wasn't fully aware of what was happening, but things didn't seem to be getting worse, for the moment, as the fabric was rubbed over his skin and hair, drying him off.

He thought he might be getting slightly warmer as the moisture was wicked away from his skin, but he was so bone-deep cold and numb that he couldn't be sure.

But then the fabric was being pulled away, and Henry nearly groaned as the cold air hit him again. Thankfully, it didn't last long, as something new, something definitely warm, was tugged over his arms and fastened around his chest. It was so warm, it felt hot and painful on his too cold skin. But he'd take burning hot over agonizing cold any day. The burning sensation moved to his hands, but he was actually somewhat relieved to be feeling anything on his hands at all after the prolonged, painful numbness. He couldn't make out any other sensations in his hands, but at least he knew they were still there and hadn't frozen and fallen off his arms.

Moments, or maybe minutes, later, hands were pulling on him, picking him up. He blearily forced his eyes open. He could just barely make out a horse in front of him that was drawing closer. Or was he moving closer to it?

With great effort, he moved his head to look to either side of him, first making out Jack on his left, then Lee on his right. They were mostly carrying, and somewhat dragging him toward the horse.

He was distantly impressed that they were able to lever his dead weight up onto the horse but hoped they didn't expect him to stay there. As soon as the horse moved, he was going to topple right back off. And he was pretty sure it was going to hurt.

But then he felt someone behind him and arms on either side of him, holding him in place. The hands that belonged to those arms, grabbed the reins, and with a parting comment to... Lee (so it had to be Jack behind him), the hands were pulling the horse around and they were off.

The jarring of the horse's lope wasn't pleasant, but the wind on his face was downright painful. Almost as if the sensation was the final straw for his overloaded brain, his shaking began to subside, but it wasn't because he was warming up. Some part of Henry's muddled thoughts was sure that was a very bad thing, but he was too out of it at this point to think clearly.

He didn't feel cold anymore. He didn't feel anything, except tired, drowsy. Sleep sounded good. He wouldn't feel cold while asleep. Just as he was about to drop off, though, he suddenly felt warm. It was so pleasant. It was like heaven, but only for a moment as the warmth grew, getting warmer and warmer until he was starting to get uncomfortably hot. Who had stoked the fire so high? He was so sleepy. He just wanted to rest.

Without opening his eyes, he fumbled, trying to push back the covers. Covers? That wasn't right... Coat. That's right, he was wearing a coat. Wasn't he? His hands weren't working right. He couldn't fully feel them, but it didn't stop him from trying to push or pull whatever fabric there was, away from his chest.

Hands stopped him, pushing his own away. Who was that? Didn't they understand? He was too hot. It was unbearable.

He tried again, feeling too weak and uncoordinated. Again, he was stopped, and there were suddenly more hands on him. He felt like he was falling, then being lifted, carried? Then he was lying down. Had he been sitting up before?

He couldn't think. Nothing felt right. Nothing made sense.

Was he dying? He wasn't sure. But if so, maybe it was for the best. Going out as a hero wouldn't be so bad. Besides, what did he really have to hold on to anyway? He'd managed to ruin and lose everything he really cared about, not that he'd ever really had any of it to begin with. A good life? A family? Friends? Happiness? Those things had never been in the cards for him. And any chance he might have had, he'd thrown away years ago when he'd allowed himself to become a greedy, self-centered monster.

Yeah, dying to save Cody? That was a good final chapter. Much better than living the rest of his life broken and alone.

The darkness beckoned, promising escape from the painful and confusing. He didn't have to be asked twice. Letting go of everything, he fell.

The darkness rose up, folding around him... and everything faded away.

* * *

 **A/N And cue another cliffhanger. Well, I did warn you guys about those. ;) I hope all of you liked it! Next chapter will be up in a week. Stay tuned! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Just a quick note, I researched the medical side of things for this story, but I am far from a medical professional and it's hard to find accurate information on the medical practices and technology of this time period. So, I tried to go off of what little medical type things we've seen on the show and keep the rest as vague as possible. However, if there are any glaring errors, please excuse them and chalk it up to creative license.**

 **Chapter 13**

It was one of the most terrifying things Jack had ever seen, and he'd seen a lot as a Mountie. But to watch someone he knew, someone he'd started thinking of as a friend somewhere along the way, disappear through the ice right in front of him, was enough to really scare the seasoned Mountie.

He'd heard Henry's shout, and had told Elizabeth to stay behind and try to call to Bill and Lee on the far side of the river. He'd mostly just wanted to make sure she gave him enough of a head start, so if whatever he found wasn't what any of them wanted, he could perhaps spare her, or prepare her at least.

As soon as he had her agreement, he took off, urging his horse into a full run downstream. He rounded a bend and saw Henry's horse, pulling his own to a skidding stop next to it. In the next beat, he was dismounted, calling Henry's name as he ran to the very edge of the riverbank.

By this time, Henry was already out on the ice, and Jack had been moments away from chastising him for going out there in the first place, when Henry explained why. Cody was fine but trapped, unable to move away from the small tree.

Jack was ever so grateful the boy was okay, but would have preferred to have been the one risking the ice. It was his job, after all, but he couldn't exactly be upset with Henry for doing exactly what Jack himself would have. Henry had just gotten there first.

Besides, Jack knew Henry cared for the boy, had seen how much time he spent with Cody. And it hadn't been difficult to recognize the fear and worry he'd seen in Henry's eyes. He didn't think there was anything that could have stopped the man from going out there, regardless of the circumstances.

He watched from the bank as Henry freed the boy and Cody practically lunged into Henry's arms. He would have smiled, if the danger wasn't still so real. He all but held his breath as Henry stood and helped steady Cody as they made the careful and slow journey back toward land.

For a moment, Jack almost allowed himself to hope everything would be fine.

They were only about ten feet out when he heard it. The unmistakable sound of breaking ice.

"Henry!" he yelled, throwing out both hands toward him, but the other man had already stopped in his tracks, arms holding Cody tightly.

Jack saw Henry glance down at the cracks around their feet, but otherwise, neither he nor Cody dared to move.

The sound of horses drew Jack's attention, and he glanced behind Henry to see Lee and Bill come to a stop and dismount on the other bank. It didn't take much for them to see something was wrong and even less to figure out what it was.

"Jack."

Henry's soft voice snapped the Mountie's attention back to him. There was... something, in Henry's eyes, something off... or meaningful?

The realization hit Jack like a physical blow.

It was a goodbye.

"Henry!"

He wasn't sure what he had been going to say, but he never got to finish as Henry suddenly heaved Cody into the air toward him. The boy just cleared the ice, and Jack reached out, grabbing him and holding on tightly as he stumbled slightly from the sudden, unbalancing impact of catching the boy.

A heartbeat afterward, his eyes were back on Henry, just in time to watch the man fall through the ice and disappear.

He heard shouts of alarm from the opposing bank, but for a brief moment, his mind stopped, unable to think past what had just happened.

Henry Gowan had essentially just sacrificed himself to save Cody.

"Jack!"

It was Elizabeth's voice that snapped him out of his moment of shock. His Mountie training once again taking over, Jack turned as Elizabeth ran toward him and gently pushed Cody into her waiting arms.

He turned back to the hole in the ice, wishing he could run out there, but knowing if he did, he'd likely end up just like Henry. If the ice could break in that spot, it could break anywhere. Then he'd be no help to Henry, who still hadn't surfaced.

"Come on. Come on," Jack murmured as he desperately tried to think of a way to help without endangering himself or anyone else.

What he really needed was some rope, but he didn't have any with him.

Then he saw it. It was brief, but Henry surfaced, and Jack heard the desperate intake of air before he disappeared again. Thankfully, not as long this time, as he quickly broke the surface again and stayed there for the moment.

"Jack!"

He turned at the sound of his name to see Bill and Lee running toward him... on this side of the river.

"How?" he couldn't help but ask.

"There's a narrower spot a little ways down," Bill pointed behind them. "We risked crossing. Here." He held out a long coil of rope.

"Bill, I could kiss you," Jack said, a small amount of relief hitting him as he grabbed the rope.

Splashing water drew all of their eyes to Henry who was attempting to grab hold of the ice, but it kept breaking under his weight.

"Henry! You have to calm down! Go slower!"

Jack couldn't tell if the man had heard him, but Henry tried for the ice again. It held a beat longer this time, but still gave out, and Henry disappeared beneath the water once more.

"Henry!" Jack yelled amid other shouts of alarm from his friends.

"Bill, help me," Jack demanded as he began to wrap the rope across his chest diagonally, over his right shoulder and under his left arm.

As Bill was almost frantically tying it off, Henry resurfaced, this time hacking and coughing painfully.

"Henry! You need to grab on to the ice, but you have to do it carefully!" Jack yelled.

Again, he wasn't sure if Henry heard him, but when the man reached for the ice again, he did so slower, less desperately. First one arm, then the other. The ice held, but for how long, they couldn't know.

"Henry," Jack called.

His only response was Henry's loud breathing and harsh coughs as the man rested his forehead against the edge of the ice.

"Henry!" Bill called, but received no more response than Jack had. Pulling tight the knot resting between Jack's shoulder blades, Bill turned. "Lee, tie this to Henry's saddle horn," he said, holding out the other end of the rope to the man.

Lee nodded, taking the rope and moving to Henry's horse.

"Henry!" Jack called as he pulled the long end of the rope over his left shoulder.

"Mister Henry?"

Jack's head snapped around to look at the boy. He'd almost forgotten he was there. Cody practically clung to Elizabeth, fear on his face. Jack wished the boy didn't have to see this, but there wasn't much he could do about it at the moment.

His eyes moved back to the river to see Henry finally reacting. He slowly raised his head to dazedly look around until his eyes landed on Cody. Jack breathed out a sigh of relief, he'd been worried that his friend had lost consciousness.

His friend. Huh.

His friend who still hadn't responded.

"Henry? Talk to us," he said, the sheer terror that had gripped him from the moment Henry had disappeared, making a resurgence.

"I'm..." His voice was faint, and he trailed off before shaking his head, but he seemed aware, and he was alive. Jack would take it. Besides, it wasn't like Henry could say he was okay. That couldn't be further from the truth.

"Henry, don't move. Stay completely still. We're going to get you out," Bill said as Jack threaded the rope under his right arm for Bill to tie off, creating a makeshift harness around the younger man's chest.

Henry's only response was a sluggish nod but at least it was a response.

Bill finished tying off the rope around Jack, moments before Lee called out.

"Got it."

Bill and Jack briefly glanced at him to see the end of the rope secured to the horn of Henry's saddle.

"Mount up," Jack ordered, sparing a quick glance at Elizabeth who had moved Cody slightly farther up the bank to be sure they weren't in the way.

Their eyes met for just a moment before Jack turned around and got down on his knees.

"Jack, be careful," Bill cautioned.

Jack pressed his gloved hands against the ice and carefully lowered himself down onto it. Then he began the tense task of slowly sliding himself across the ice toward Henry.

The closer he got, the worse the other man looked.

"Hang on, Henry," he murmured, mostly rhetorically.

Henry didn't respond, but Jack could see that he'd at least heard him.

It was agonizing how slowly he was having to go, but any faster risked compromising the ice further and putting Henry's life in even greater danger. Jack wasn't willing to do that.

Finally, he reached his friend and grabbed hold of his wrists, quickly assessing the situation. The only reason Henry was still above water was because his coat had frozen to the ice, keeping him in place.

"Easy, Henry," he murmured. "We're going to take this slow."

"C-c-c-can't h-h-help," Henry returned, and Jack almost winced at the sound of Henry's voice. He couldn't imagine how painfully cold the man must be.

"It's okay," Jack assured. "It's okay. I've got you."

He eased forward until he could get a good grip on Henry. Then he carefully pulled Henry's arms free of the ice, feeling the other man tense as he dipped slightly deeper into the water.

"I've got you," Jack said, both hands gripping the back of Henry's coat securely.

Henry didn't relax, but he didn't struggle either, just shivered severely. Jack had to get him out of the water. Now.

"That's it, Henry," Jack said calmly. "Just stay as still as you can."

He pulled Henry up a little higher out of the water and slipped his arms under Henry's and around his back securely.

"All right, Bill," Jack called over his shoulder.

Bill turned to Lee who was sitting astride Henry's horse.

"Go," he said. "Slowly."

Lee nodded and walked the horse forward and away from the river. Bill guided the slack until the rope became taught and started pulling on Jack.

With a grunt of effort, Jack managed to get Henry half up out of the water, dragging him over the lip of the ice and praying it wouldn't break under their weight. He sent up a quick thank you when he pulled Henry fully out of the water with no further incident.

Henry's shivering increased as the air fully hit him. All Jack could do was grip him tightly as the rope pulled them both back to safety.

The moment Jack's boots touched land again, he was climbing to his feet, the rope going slack as Lee untied it from the saddle and dismounted, while Jack and Bill gently dragged Henry fully onto dry land.

"We have to get him back to town, fast," Jack said, not liking the condition Henry was in as the man shook and tried to curl in on himself. They had gotten him out of the water, but that wasn't even half the battle.

"Lee, you help Jack," Bill ordered. "I'm going to get our horses back to this side."

"Wait," Jack called, pulling at the rope still around his chest. "Untie me first."

Bill moved behind him to quickly loosen the rope as Lee crouched down next to Henry.

"What should we do?" Lee asked.

"Help me get his coat off," Jack said, already undoing the buttons.

Freeing Jack from the rope, Bill turned and took off at a jog back toward the place he and Lee had crossed earlier.

Lee gently straightened Henry out from his slightly curled position before sliding his hands under Henry's shoulders. He lifted him up and held him in a half-sitting position while Jack worked the wet sleeves free of Henry's arms, tossing the useless coat to the side, along with Henry's soaked gloves.

"There's a blanket tied behind my saddle," Jack said.

Lee didn't need further explanation as he laid Henry back down and leapt to his feet, headed for Jack's horse where it was standing nearby.

By the time he got back with the blanket, Jack had Henry's shirt unbuttoned, but Henry's eyes were open, confusion shining in them as he weakly fought to stop the Mountie.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, Henry," Jack said, grabbing his wrists to stop his clumsy movements. "We've got to try to dry you off some. It's the only way we can start warming you up."

Henry stopped fighting and his eyes drifted shut again.

Setting the blanket aside, Lee helped Jack removed the soaked shirt. The moment it was off, Henry's shaking worsened until his whole body was being wracked with near convulsions.

As fast as he could, Lee wrapped the blanket around Henry's torso. He and Jack, managed to hold Henry in a mostly sitting position between them as they rubbed the blanket over his upper body and hair, trying to remove as much moisture as possible and hopefully start warming him, at least a little.

"Hold him," Jack said, shifting Henry's weight fully against Lee.

Pulling his gloves off, Jack unbuttoned and removed his own coat.

"Help me," he said as he pulled the blanket away from Henry, eliciting a faint moan from the semi-conscious man.

Lee knew exactly what Jack was thinking and helped pull the Mountie's coat over Henry's arms. Securely buttoned, with the collar pulled up as high as it would go, Jack finished off by pushing his own gloves onto Henry's hands.

"That's the best we can do out here. We have to get him to Carson," Jack said. "Help me get him on my horse."

With Lee's help, they managed to get Henry to the horse and, with some difficulty, on the horse's back. Henry seemed to be in and out of it the entire time.

"Grab the blanket," Jack said, holding Henry in place.

Lee retrieved it and handed it to the Mountie. Jack inspected it, deciding it wasn't too damp to use as a bit of a wind block, and wrapped it around Henry's upper body.

While Lee kept Henry balanced on the horse, Jack pulled himself up behind him, wrapping his arms around Henry and gripping the reins before looking back down at Lee.

"Will you be okay here?" Jack asked, needing to get Henry help but not wanting to leave all of them.

Lee nodded. "Go. Bill and I can take care of everything here. We'll be right behind you."

With a nod, Jack turned his horse and took off at a fast lope that was just short of a full canter. He wanted to go faster, but worried he wouldn't be able to keep Henry on the horse if he did. Henry leaned back against him, his head lolling on Jack's shoulder.

Had he finally fully lost consciousness? If so, that wasn't good. But what really alarmed him was when Henry's shivering died down until it all but stopped. That was bad.

The body only stopped shivering for two reasons. One, it got warm and didn't need to shiver anymore. Or two, it got cold enough to move into a more severe level of hypothermia, to the point that the body was too cold for the brain to recognize the need for shivering.

Jack knew it wasn't the first option. Taking the risk, Jack urged his horse faster, nearly into an all-out run, and the town finally came into view.

"Hang on, Henry. Don't you die on me," Jack said. _Please help us make it in time_ , he silently prayed.

It was just as they were coming to town that Henry roused slightly and started moving. It was clumsy and uncoordinated, but it was still clear Henry was trying to push away the blanket and was pulling at the coat.

Jack's heart nearly stopped. In the final stages of hypothermia, sometimes victims might suddenly feel warm, to the point of being hot, as their bodies shut down. In their confusion, they would sometimes try to remove excess layers of clothing, not realizing the feeling of being hot was a miscommunication between the brain and body, and they weren't getting warmer but colder. It meant they were dying.

"No. No. No. Please no," Jack whispered.

Slowing his horse to a slightly more manageable speed, he pushed Henry's hands away from the coat and rewrapped the blanket around him. He could see the infirmary. They were almost there.

Gravel flew as his horse skidded to a stop in front of the infirmary. The commotion, blessedly, brought Carson and Faith to the door, and they moved toward him the moment they saw Henry.

"What happened?" Carson demanded as he steadied Henry while Jack dismounted.

"He fell through the ice, into the river," Jack said as the two of them pulled Henry down from the saddle.

"Hypothermic," Carson said, feeling Henry's frigid skin.

"Severely," Jack added.

"Faith!" Carson called, needing no further words for the competent nurse.

She ran inside, preparing a bed and grabbing as many blankets as were in easy reach, piling them next to the bed.

The two men carried Henry in and laid him down, while Faith filled a large kettle with water and placed it on the stove to heat, pulling out several empty hot water bottles as she waited.

"We've got to get him out of these wet clothes," Carson said.

He didn't even have to ask before Jack was helping him. In just minutes, Henry had been dried off, his wet clothes replaced by a set of dry ones from the infirmary's stores, and was covered by at least eight different blankets.

Reaching under the mountain of fabric, Carson pressed his fingers to Henry's wrist, not liking the sluggish pulse, nor how still the man was. To be that cold to the touch and not be shivering, was extremely alarming.

"What happened?" he asked Jack over his shoulder, as he opened Henry's eyes to check his pupils.

Jack sighed, his expression pained. "We were looking for Cody. He went missing earlier, and Dasher came back without him. Henry thought he might have gone to the river, so several of us went looking for him. Near as I can figure, he ended up out on the ice somehow. I don't know if it was on purpose or by accident. But there's a place in the river where a small tree has grown up out of it, and it was sticking through the ice. From what I saw, Cody got his sleeve caught on it and couldn't get free." Jack sighed. "Henry found him first. By the time I got there, he was already out on the ice, trying to cut Cody's sleeve to free him. He got him loose okay, but as they were headed back to the bank, the ice started cracking."

"Oh, no," Faith gasped.

"Cody is fine," Jack quickly assured. "Thanks to Henry. He knew what was coming, and at the last second, he was able to throw Cody to me before he went under."

"How long was he in the water?" Carson asked.

Jack rubbed the back of his neck. He honestly wasn't sure. It'd felt like an eternity.

"I... don't know. At least..." he shook his head and shrugged helplessly. Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? He had no idea. "I'm really not sure. We got him out as fast as we could, but it was still too long," he said, looking miserable.

"You did everything right, Jack," Carson assured. "You saved his life."

"I should have been the one on that ice."

"Then it'd be you laying in this bed, if you were lucky," Carson said.

"What do you mean?"

"I didn't even have to be there to know it's due to your training and quick thinking that Henry made it back here alive. If you had been the one to go through the ice, you may not have survived," Carson said. He met Jack's eyes intensely. "If you had been meant to be on that ice, you would have been. But God put Henry there to save Cody, and He put you on the bank to save Henry. So stop feeling guilty."

Jack nodded, his eyes clearing slightly and his expression thankful.

Carson turned as Faith appeared, holding out several water bottles. He briefly felt of them, warm but not hot. Good. Too hot and it could cause a whole host of problems. Never apply icy cold to an extreme fever or scalding hot to hypothermia. Such extremes could cause shock, which could result in cardiac arrest in weakened patients.

The medical knowledge scrolled through Carson's mind effortlessly as he placed the water bottles beneath the blankets, around Henry's neck and on his chest, before covering him again. Warm the core first, not the extremities. Applying heat to arms or legs could drive the cold back to the heart, lungs, and brain, which could be fatal.

Henry stirred as the warmth started to seep in. Only semi-conscious, he shifted restlessly, his movements slow and clumsy but clear in their efforts to push away the blankets. With little effort, Carson was able to stop the weak attempts and hold the blankets in place.

"He started doing that about the time we reached town," Jack offered.

Not good.

"Faith, I need you to warm some fluids. We need to start an IV. He's too severe for external warming to be quick enough."

Faith nodded and practically flew across the room to do so.

"Is he going to be all right?" Jack asked.

Carson sighed. "I honestly don't know yet." He paused before meeting Jack's eyes briefly. "But prayer wouldn't hurt."

"Yeah, I don't think I've stopped since it happened," Jack said softly. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"You've done your part, Jack. It's time for Faith and me to do ours," Carson said kindly.

Jack nodded, grabbing his coat and pulling it back on. "I had to leave the others behind to get Henry here. I need to go back and make sure they're okay."

Carson nodded. "Go ahead, Jack. We've got it from here."

As Jack grabbed the door handle, he briefly glanced back, watching Faith hand a bottle of warmed fluids to Carson as the doctor set about hooking it up to Henry.

Sending up yet another prayer for his friend, Jack slipped through the door.

* * *

 **A/N What do you guys think? Will Henry be okay? How will Abigail react when she finds out? Will she and Henry ever get the chance to talk about what happened between them? The answers to all... Well, some... Well, _one_ of these questions will be forthcoming in the next chapter. See you guys next week! :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

About halfway back to the river, Jack found them. They were riding along at a walk. Cody sat in front of Bill on his horse, with Elizabeth riding to one side of them, and Lee on the other, leading Henry's horse behind his own.

"Jack!" Elizabeth greeted as he came into view.

Jack eased his horse to a stop in front of them. "Are all of you all right?" he asked.

"We're fine," Elizabeth assured. "How's Henry?"

"Carson's with him." He glanced at Cody. The boy looked miserable but also expectant, waiting for Jack to continue. He couldn't lie in front of the boy, and being vague wouldn't work. Cody was too smart for that. "He... doesn't know yet," he said honestly.

They all understood. Henry was far from out of the woods, and there were no guarantees.

Bill met Jack's eyes, something passing between them. His voice and words were concerning, but his eyes...

One glance at Lee told Bill that he'd seen it too. It was bad. Really bad. There was a very scary chance they could lose their friend.

Since Henry's return, the three of them had somehow grown close to the man, which still boggled Bill's mind at times. It wasn't that long ago that they'd all essentially hated Henry, and now, not only did they care about him, but felt fiercely protective of him too.

When he and Lee had arrived to see Henry and Cody standing on the ice, not moving, and Jack's panicked expression... Bill had sent one look at Lee, both of them knowing exactly what was happening and, like Jack, completely helpless to do anything to stop it.

Bill didn't think he'd ever moved quite so fast in his life, as he and Lee had the moment Henry disappeared beneath the ice. That was the moment he'd started praying, and he was pretty sure he hadn't stopped yet.

He'd leapt off his horse, somehow having the presence of mind to grab the rope he had in his saddle bags, before he and Lee had sprinted to a large log, not far downstream, that was spanning a narrower part of the river, and took a chance that it would hold their weight. They honestly, probably shouldn't have risked it. If the two of them had fallen, or if the log had given out, it only would have tripled their problem. But neither he nor Lee had been thinking about themselves at that moment. Their friend had just disappeared before their eyes and still hadn't surfaced.

It was as they were hastily crossing the log, that he'd heard Lee's panicked prayers under the other man's breath. Bill hadn't caught much, but he'd heard enough to know they mirrored his own, as he sent up a quick plea that the log wouldn't give out under them, before immediately turning his thoughts back to pleading with God to save Henry.

Now, as Lee briefly closed his eyes and bowed his head, Bill knew the other man was still praying as well.

As they all continued back toward town in tense, worried silence, Bill glanced down at the boy in front of him. If someone had told him, even a year ago, that someday Henry would risk his life, possibly even give his life, to save this boy, he would have laughed outright. But it had happened, and he actually wasn't a bit surprised.

He'd long since known how Henry felt about Abigail, but over the past two months, he'd also seen Henry's interactions with the boy. Henry cared about Cody, deeply, and the boy seemed to be completely taken with Henry too. He followed Henry almost everywhere, like a little shadow, most days. He looked up to Henry and hung on his every word, and Henry was always completely transfixed by the boy, never bored or irritated, no matter how much he chattered.

Bill knew Henry had to genuinely care about Cody, and not just because the man loved the boy's mother. No adult enjoyed playing fetch with a dog quite that much, or talking about dogs, or teaching dogs tricks, or playing catch, or walking a kid home from school, listening to him talk about his day the whole way. And Henry definitely was not a fisherman, and yet, he'd been, not once, but on three separate occasions with Cody.

He loved the boy.

And Bill knew for a fact, that when Henry had stepped out on that ice, his own life had been the last thing on his mind. And when he'd saved Cody... He hadn't cared about himself in that moment. He'd known what it would cost him to get Cody to safety and had gladly done it to protect the boy.

 _Oh, Lord, please let him be okay._

 **)()()(**

Abigail paced back and forth in front of one of the cafe windows, glancing outside with every pass. She should have gone with them to look for Cody, but Bill had convinced her to stay behind, in case he turned up. It was the best plan of action, of course, but the waiting and worrying was agony.

She had no idea how long she'd been waiting and praying, when she glanced out the window to see her friends finally riding back into town, and there, in front of Bill, was... Sparing just enough time to yank on her coat, she rushed out of the cafe. The moment Bill stopped his horse and let Cody down, the boy was running toward his mother.

"Mom!"

"Cody!"

The boy lunged up the stairs and practically leapt into his mother's arms. She hugged him fiercely, overwhelmed with relief.

"Oh, thank you, Lord," she whispered. "Are you all right?" she asked, pulling back enough to look him over.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Cody said. "Thanks to Mister Henry."

It was only then that Abigail noticed who was missing from the group, her eyes landing on the one riderless horse.

"Where is Henry?" she asked, looking at the other adults, all of whom glanced at each other uneasily as if silently trying to decide who should answer her.

Dread settled deep inside her chest as fear began to bubble up within her.

Ultimately, it was Bill who stepped forward, and Abigail wasn't sure if that didn't alarm her even more.

"Abigail," he said gently, too gently. "Something happened."

"I'm sorry," Cody said, suddenly on the verge of tears. "I didn't mean to go out on the ice. It was an accident."

She hugged him close and shushed him softly. "It's okay. I'm just glad you're safe." She met Bill's eyes, fear fully flowing through her. What wasn't she being told?

"It doesn't matter how, right now, but Cody ended up trapped on the ice," he explained. "Henry found him first and went out to get him. As they were walking back..." he sighed deeply. "The ice started to crack. Henry got Cody to safety, but he fell through."

Abigail's heart stopped, her blood running cold.

"Tell me he's alive," she whispered.

Bill nodded. "Carson is with him."

Abigail swallowed hard. Relief that he was still alive flowed through her, but it was no match for the fear that still gripped her at the grave sounding pronouncement. She made a visible effort to school her features, but Bill could see the deep worry in her eyes.

Hugging Cody tightly once more, she pulled back enough to catch his eyes. "Sweetheart, how about you and Miss Thatcher head inside and get warmed up. There's hot chocolate on the stove. I'll be there in a minute."

Cody looked reluctant to leave, but as Elizabeth approached, he willingly went with her. Abigail met the other woman's eyes and mouthed a thank you.

Elizabeth nodded as she and Cody disappeared into the cafe.

Lee and Jack surreptitiously glanced at one another, coming to some kind of unspoken consensus, before looking back at Abigail. Neither of them spoke, simply giving her quick nods of farewell before leading the horses toward the stables, now that they were no longer needed.

Once they were alone, Abigail turned back to Bill. "How is he?" she asked, pulling her coat more tightly around her in a subconscious, almost nervous gesture.

"Carson can't say either way yet," Bill said, "but he didn't look good, Abigail. He was in the water a lot longer than any of us would have liked."

By sheer force of will, Abigail kept her emotions in check. "Thank you for letting me know, Bill. I'll keep him in my prayers," she said, her voice as neutral as she could make it.

"You don't have to hide from me, Abigail," Bill said softly.

She kept her expression void of any of the panic she felt. How did he know? Did he know? She wasn't ready to admit this to anyone, wasn't ready to let anyone know. She wasn't ready to make it quite so real, not when she still hadn't wrapped her head completely around it yet. But it appeared the choice was out of her hands.

"I'm your friend...," he said, "and I've seen the way you look at him."

She only just kept herself from gaping at him. First Frank, now Bill? Did everyone in town know? Was it that obvious?

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bill," she said, her voice firm, almost icy, but her eyes unable to meet his.

She wasn't even sure why she was still trying to deny it, especially to Bill. He was her friend and would never judge her. And why was she expecting to be judged? She hadn't done anything wrong. Why was she so embarrassed to admit it?

 _Because it's real,_ her mind supplied. This wasn't some attraction or affection. This was real, more real than anything she'd felt for a man in a long time. It wasn't quite so easy to be open about something like that. Something that real, carried so many risks, the chance at happiness... but also pain and heartbreak.

It was too much too fast.

Only last night, had she truly realized, for the first time, that she even had feelings for him. And in the intervening hours of a sleepless night, she'd only began to scratch the surface of the true depth and intensity of those feelings.

She'd still been no closer to sorting it all out when Dasher had come back without Cody, and terror had overshadowed everything else.

That was, until she'd seen him again.

She hadn't even consciously made the decision to call out to him as he'd been riding by, but the moment their eyes met... Even now, she couldn't fully comprehend everything she'd felt in that moment, but what she was certain of, was how she'd felt when he'd promised to find Cody.

Peace. She'd felt a calm come over her, her fear fading for just a moment. But it wasn't so much his words, as his eyes. The intensity in his gaze had calmed and reassured her in a way that she still couldn't even fully grasp. As she shared that long look with him, it had hit her. She trusted him. More importantly, she trusted him with the life of her son. She trusted him so much that, in that moment, she'd had no doubts he would do exactly what his eyes had been silently vowing.

He would bring her son back to her, somehow. Whatever it took.

And he had.

He had done whatever it took...

Bill reached out and touched her arm. "I've known for a long time, Abigail."

She raised her eyes to meet his. How? She hadn't even known until last night.

"It wasn't until recently that I was sure about where you stood, but him..." He huffed softly and shook his head. "That's been clear to me ever since he was here over Christmas. It's hard to miss the way he looks at you."

Christmas? That long? He'd felt that way about her since that far back? Had she felt this way then? She honestly wasn't sure how or when it had happened. Maybe she had then, but had still been blind to it.

"What do you mean?" she asked, not sure why. She knew what he meant, but, somehow, she needed someone else to say it. Not just her, not just Frank. Someone who was more outside of it all.

"I mean, that anyone with eyes can see that man is in love with you," Bill said.

And there it was.

"Bill..." she started, but had no idea what else she might say, and was somewhat grateful when he cut her off.

"You really think he turned state's evidence just to save his own skin? Or that he stopped Ray Wyatt from shooting me because it seemed like the thing to do at the time? Or that when he had the perfect opportunity to escape, not only did he never intend to take it, but he used the chance to ride to the depot and bring Becky back for Christmas? You really think he did that just because he was in the mood for a nice horseback ride? Or how about the fact that as soon as he was paroled, he came back here, to the place where most people don't like him very much, to put it mildly, and has spent these past months trying to atone for everything he's done and be an upstanding, helpful member of this town. He hasn't been doing that just because 'there's good in him.'" Bill said. "All of it was for you."

She had forgotten about most of those things. Things that, before, had looked so different, friendship, nothing more, but now, had a completely different context to them. How had she never seen those things for what they were? Could she even trust herself that she was viewing them correctly now? What if she had all of this wrong? What if Henry didn't feel the same way about her? What if it was all just some kind of attraction, or even worse, what if she was just some trophy to be won? She didn't want to believe that for even a second. The man she had come to know wasn't that sort of person. Maybe, once, he might have been, but not now.

But what if...

"Well, if that was some attempt to impress me..." she weakly argued, hating herself the moment the words were said, but needing someone to tell her she was wrong.

She was just so confused and worried and nothing made sense, even as everything seemed to make a new kind of sense that she'd never been aware of before. She didn't know what to think or feel anymore.

Bill growled in frustration. She couldn't blame him. She was getting pretty frustrated with herself too.

"Abigail, he didn't do any of that to impress you. He did it because he loves you! Because he wants to do things for you without expecting anything in return. That's love. Real love. For crying out loud, he just saved your son's life and may very well lose his own in the process."

She paled at the thought, her breath stuttering in her chest. The full weight and reality of that hadn't completely sunk in until just that moment.

"I'm sorry," Bill said, reaching out to gently grip her arms. "I shouldn't have said that..."

He was right, though. Real love wasn't words or gifts or grand gestures. Real love was actions, genuine actions that spoke to the truth of a person, and the truth of Henry Gowan was that he was a kind, caring, selfless man who... loved her.

He loved her... in a way she hadn't been loved in years. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed feeling truly, deeply loved like that.

Bill took a deep breath, his voice coming out calm and gentle. "He's a completely different person than he used to be. Prison can change a man, but not that much. Only love changes someone like that. He loves you, Abigail. And I'm more certain now than ever, that you love him. Whether you're willing to admit it or not."

Abigail swallowed thickly, unable to meet his eyes, but nodded. She couldn't say it out loud, not yet, but she couldn't deny it anymore either.

There were so many conflicting emotions on her face, but the ones that confused Bill the most were the fear and the slightest traces of embarrassment that he'd seen flash through her eyes. What was she so afraid of? And why embarrassment? Was it because she was in love? Or was it because of who she loved?

There was no shame in loving someone, even Henry Gowan. Especially with how profoundly it had changed him for the better. Yeah, at first, it had taken Bill some time to wrap his head around it, but now, he, personally, thought it was a good thing. A great thing, even. She had made Henry a better man, had made him _want_ to _be_ a better man. If that wasn't what love was all about, Bill didn't know what was.

Now if he could just get Abigail to drop her more stubborn tendencies and fully accept that too... Well, while he was at it, maybe he could catch a cloud, or see the wind, or touch the moon.

"I'm not here to judge you or embarrass you, Abigail. I'm your friend. I would never do that," he said.

"I know," she said softly, finally meeting his eyes. "I know, I just..." she trailed off, but he thought maybe he was starting to understand.

He could see it in her eyes. He hadn't told her anything just now that she hadn't already been aware of.

"How long have you known?" he asked softly.

She looked at him. "That I...?"

He nodded. She couldn't even voice it yet.

"I started fully realizing it last night," she admitted. "Bill, I..." she paused, debating whether to go on before deciding she couldn't hold it back any longer. "I haven't felt like this for a long time. Not since..." she looked down at her hands where she was wringing them together stressfully. "Not since my husband."

And now it all made sense, especially in light of... _Oh, Lord, no._

She hadn't felt like this for someone since her husband, who had died. And now, there they were, discussing the very real possibility that Henry might not make it. If he died... Bill was afraid it might just destroy her.

"I'm sorry, Abigail. I didn't think. I..." He shook his head. No wonder she was afraid. Terrified was more like it. "Look, I know what all of this could mean for you, depending on how things turn out," he said gently. "But trying to convince yourself and everyone else that you don't feel what you're feeling isn't going to make it go away." He sighed and took her hands in his. "I know you're scared, but... just make sure that, if he... If the worst happens... Don't leave yourself with regrets," he said softly.

She looked on the verge of tears, but held them back and nodded. Then she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you, Bill," she whispered.

"I'm here for you, Abigail," he replied as he returned the brief embrace.

Stepping back, she quickly wiped away a single, stubborn tear and offered him a smile that was no less warm for the sadness in her eyes.

"I need to go check on Cody, but thank you, Bill. You're a good friend."

"I can come with you, if you want, field some of Cody's question so you don't have to," he suggested, knowing Cody was going to start asking things left and right with no idea, yet, of the real stakes for his mother.

"I would appreciate that, actually," she admitted, the slightest bit of relief in her eyes.

He followed her into the cafe to see Cody and Elizabeth sitting at one of the tables. As expected, the moment they were spotted, Cody rushed over to them.

"Have you heard anything about Mister Henry? Is he going to be okay?"

Bill quickly reached out and gently turned the boy, guiding him back toward the table he'd been sharing with Elizabeth.

"We don't know anything new yet," Bill told him. "But Henry is a strong guy." He carefully didn't promise that he'd be okay. The last thing he wanted to do was unintentionally lie to the boy.

As they approached the table, Bill caught Elizabeth's eyes and surreptitiously motioned back toward Abigail. Elizabeth nodded in understanding and rose.

As Bill and Cody sat down, the older man quickly engaging the boy in conversation to distract him, Elizabeth approached Abigail and gently took her arm, leading the other woman into the kitchen.

She was just about to speak when the back door opened and in rushed Rosemary.

"Lee told me everything," she announced, moving over to them. "Have you heard anything new?"

"No," Abigail said, so softly they almost hadn't heard her.

"Abigail, I know you were worried, but Cody's okay, and I bet Henry will be too. Carson is a good doctor," Elizabeth said, not fully understanding Abigail's fear yet.

"I know, I..." she shook her head and looked away, her eyes bright.

"Abigail?" Elizabeth asked, her expression concerned.

Abigail finally looked at her, her eyes full of turmoil and on the verge of tears. She shook her head again.

"What is it?" Rosemary asked in concern.

Abigail glanced toward Cody where he was still sitting and talking with Bill.

"Not here," she whispered.

Rosemary followed her gaze. Seeing the boy completely distracted by Bill, she grabbed Abigail's hand.

"Come on," she said, pulling Abigail toward the stairs, Elizabeth right behind them.

Once safely upstairs, Rosemary entered the first room they came to. Inside, there were two beds, side-by-side. She and Elizabeth sat Abigail down on one of the beds, and perched on the other, across from her.

"All right, what's wrong?" Rosemary demanded.

"I..." Abigail trailed off, at a loss.

"Is it about Cody?" Elizabeth asked.

Abigail shook her head. "No, it..." she pressed her hand to her mouth, her eyes filled with worry and fear, as she shook her head again. "It's... Henry," she admitted.

Rosemary gasped. "You're in love with him."

Elizabeth looked at Rosemary like she'd lost her mind, but when she saw the surprised, but not at all contradictory expression on Abigail's face, her jaw dropped open.

"But... you're with Frank," she said, trying to wrap her head around it.

"Not anymore," Abigail said softly.

"What happened?" Elizabeth asked.

"I..." Abigail trailed off. How on Earth was she supposed to explain this? "Last night, Henry ate dinner with Cody and me."

Elizabeth nodded. "You cooked for him after he saved Jack."

"Yes," Abigail agreed. "After we finished eating, he stayed, and the three of us just talked. Mostly Cody chattered away with questions and comments about everything that happened yesterday." She paused, working up her courage. "Henry was still here when I sent Cody off to bed, and offered to help me clean up. We were washing the dishes and talking, then we started teasing each other." Her words started coming faster, almost tripping over each other. "Then he splashed me with some water and I tried to splash him back and we were laughing and being silly and there was water on the floor and I slipped and..."

She cut off her rambling, unable to voice it.

"Go on," Rosemary prodded, as if this was some wonderful, page-turning romance novel.

Abigail swallowed hard. "The next thing I knew, I was in his arms," she said softly.

Elizabeth and Rosemary gaped at her, Elizabeth with shock, and Rosemary looking like she was hanging on every word and dying to know what happened next.

Silence stretched between the three of them as two women waited with baited breath, and the other stared at the floor, already feeling mortified by the conversation.

"Well?" Rosemary finally demanded. "Don't stop there. What happened next?"

Abigail slowly met their eyes, her voice only a whisper when it came. "He kissed me."

Elizabeth's mouth dropped open again and Rosemary gasped.

"Neither of us meant for it to happen. It just did," she said, looking pained as she remembered the conversation that had followed.

"So?" Rosemary prompted as Abigail fell silent again.

"So, what?" Abigail questioned, confused.

"Did you kiss him back?" she asked excitedly.

Abigail's inability to meet their eyes was all the answer they needed.

Rosemary let out a soft squeal of delight while Elizabeth exhaled sharply in surprise.

"But wait," Rosemary said suddenly. "How does this relate to Frank?"

"He... saw us," Abigail admitted.

Two gasps echoed through the room this time.

"No! What happened?" Rosemary asked.

"After Henry kissed me, he ran away-"

"Henry or Frank?" Rosemary asked.

"Henry," Abigail said. "When he realized what had just happened... I think he panicked. I tried to stop him, but he was gone before I could. It was only after he left that I realized Frank was there. He had come into the cafe and seen the whole thing."

"Was he angry?" Elizabeth asked, her expression sympathetic.

"No, actually," Abigail said with a shake of her head. "He was sad, but not angry. I'm not sure if that wasn't worse." She looked away again. "He was so... understanding. He said he cared about me and would always be my friend, but..."

"But what?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"But that he didn't look at me the way Henry does," Abigail answered, so quietly the other two women almost didn't hear her.

Rosemary and Elizabeth looked at each other, suddenly realizing exactly what Frank had meant. Every time Henry looked at Abigail, he just had this expression that... It couldn't even fully be described. Almost like... Abigail was some precious, priceless treasure that Henry had been granted the privilege to gaze upon, or something.

All this time, it had been right in front of them, and they hadn't realized it.

He was in love with her. Completely and hopelessly.

How had they missed it until now? Especially Rosemary? She must have been losing her touch.

"The thing is," Abigail said, "he was right..." She sighed shakily. "Frank and I, we've been drifting farther and farther apart for months now, and neither one of us even really noticed. It's been over for a lot longer than either of us wanted to admit. And then Henry..." She shook her head slightly and met their eyes again. "I've told you both about my husband, Noah?"

Elizabeth and Rosemary nodded.

A soft smile spread across Abigail's face. "I loved him so much. The same way you love Jack, Elizabeth, and you love Lee, Rosemary."

More nods as both women smiled sadly, understanding completely and imagining how great of a loss it must have been for Abigail.

"After he died, I never thought I'd feel like that again." She shook her head. "I cared about Bill and Frank. I still do, and I loved them in my own way, but... I never felt for them quite the way I did for Noah."

"But it's different with Henry," Elizabeth guessed gently.

Abigail pressed her hand to her mouth and nodded, eyes bright. "What if I lose him too?" she whispered.

"Oh, Abigail," Elizabeth said, wanting to cry for her.

She and Rosemary both moved to sit on either side of Abigail and embraced her.

Neither of them could bring themselves to make any platitudes or reassurances when the truth was, they didn't know if Henry would be okay or not. Elizabeth had seen for herself how bad he looked after Jack pulled him out of the water.

"We're here for you," Rosemary said.

"Thank you," Abigail said, hugging them both as she fought back her tears.

A few minutes passed before she cleared her throat and visibly pulled herself together.

"Okay. I've felt sorry for myself long enough," she said, her voice strong and determined as she wiped forcefully at her eyes. "Sitting around here worrying isn't going to help anything."

Elizabeth was suddenly reminded of the time Abigail had had to go to work in the mines to pay off her house. She and the other women had just lost their husbands, and yet, they had pulled themselves together and done what needed to be done. That kind of strength... Elizabeth admired it deeply. She wasn't sure she could be that strong and brave in the face of that kind of loss.

She'd practically been a wreck while Jack was gone to the Northern Territories, scared to death for his life-

It suddenly hit her. That was the exact same fear Abigail was dealing with right now. And the worst part was always the waiting and not knowing.

"You need to go see him," she said urgently. "No matter how hard it might be, you'll regret it if you don't. Especially if..." She trailed off, unwilling to say it.

"I know," Abigail said, meeting her eyes. "I know." She took a deep breath and finished collecting herself. "Thank you both for being here."

"Where else would we be?" Rosemary asked with a smile.

"What she said," Elizabeth agreed.

The three women shared another hug before Abigail stood. "Would one of you watch after Cody for me?"

"Of course, Abigail," Elizabeth said. "You don't even have to ask."

"She's right," Rosemary agreed. "You don't worry about that. You go do what you need to. We'll take care of Cody."

"Thank you," Abigail said again.

With one last comforting look from Rosemary, and a touch to her arm from Elizabeth, both women turned and headed back downstairs.

Abigail was almost to the stairs herself, when her eye caught on something, and she paused. Moving over to a nearby table, she hesitantly rested her hand on Henry's coat. After she'd realized he'd forgotten it last night, she hadn't wanted to leave it downstairs to possibly raise questions from anyone (as if that mattered now), so she'd brought it upstairs until she could return it to him.

Carefully, she picked it up, feeling of the soft, slightly worn fabric.

It was just a normal, nondescript, brown coat, but he had worn it so regularly since coming back that it had become synonymous with him in her mind.

Pulling it closer, she hugged it tightly, burying her face in it and breathing deeply.

It smelled like him. She hadn't even realized she knew what he smelled like.

It was hard to fully describe it, except to say it was a clean, masculine scent with hints of the detergent his clothes were typically washed in, and traces of freshly cut wood from the sawmill.

She didn't know how she could have become so familiar with the scent without even knowing it, but it was so uniquely Henry that, the moment she breathed it in, her mind was filled with him. A million different memories of him. His smile, his kindness, his shyness, his praise and encouragement, his rapt attention to everything Cody said, and his eager willingness to do things with him. The amusement that shone in his eyes whenever he teased her... the soft, longing way he would look at her sometimes, without even realizing it... the almost awe that would come over him when she'd laugh... the way he said her name.

How could she have never noticed? It had all been right there in front of her. So much time that had been lost, wasted, because she'd been blind to both of their feelings. And now...

She was terrified she was going to lose him, but another thought suddenly occurred to her. One that she thought might be even worse.

What if she never got to tell him how she felt? What if he... without ever knowing she loved him?

Laying the coat down, she turned and descended the stairs. She wasn't wasting another moment hiding away. It was like Bill had said. Trying to run from these feelings or pretend they didn't exist, wasn't going to make it any less devastating if she lost him. But sitting at home and never seeing him alive again because she was too afraid? That, she would regret forever.

* * *

 **A/N To _annannak11_ who wanted more Abigail in the story, I hope this went a little ways to satisfying that wish. There will be more Abigail in the coming chapters, along with the rest of our favorite Hope Valley characters. Stay tuned, and please let me know what you think! :)**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

It took all of the strength and courage Abigail had to open the door and enter the infirmary. As soon as she did, she felt torn. Part of her was so relieved to actually see Henry, while the rest of her was wishing she hadn't come, because the way he looked, so still and pale? It scared her.

At her entrance, Carson looked up from where he was sitting next to Henry.

"How is he?" she asked, surprising herself by how normal her voice sounded, concerned? Yes. But on the verge of losing it and breaking down completely because the man she loved looked like death barely warmed over in front of her? No.

Carson sighed. "No guarantees," he said. "But we're finally getting his temperature to come up and his heart rate is getting stronger and starting to stabilize. That's a good sign."

As he finished speaking, Faith approached, carrying three hot water bottles and a jar of liquid.

It was only as she handed the jar to Carson and he stood, did Abigail notice that there was an identical jar hanging nearby with a tube running from it and disappearing beneath the blankets covering Henry. An IV. Carson switched out the almost empty bottle with the new one, as Faith pulled back the blankets slightly to reveal more hot water bottles on Henry's chest and around his neck. She replaced them with the new ones and covered him back up.

The entire time, Henry's chest only barely rose and fell as he breathed.

"How's Cody?" Carson asked as he finished with the IV and handed the empty jar to Faith for her to refill along with the cooled off water bottles.

"He's fine," she replied. "Not a scratch on him, but he's worried." Which was the truth. She just chose to leave out the part about him not being the only one, as her eyes moved back to Henry's face. "When I left the cafe, Bill was with him, trying to keep him distracted."

Carson nodded. "I hope to eventually have good news for everybody, but it's going to take a while."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound as desperate as she felt. She refused to be someone who fell apart at the first sign of trouble. She had been through worse and was stronger than that... maybe.

"Actually, there might be," Carson said. "We're giving him warmed IV fluids and using warm water bottles to try to get his temperature up, but it wouldn't hurt if we could get him to drink something warm too. Faith is busy with keeping the IV and water bottles coming, but if you could help me, we might be able to get some tea down him."

"Of course," Abigail agreed, glad to have something, anything, to do. Standing or sitting around waiting was torture.

She wasn't sure if Carson really needed the help or if he was just being nice enough to let her do something, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

As he set about preparing the tea, Abigail moved closer to the bed, tentatively taking the seat next to it. She stared at Henry's still face. He might have looked peaceful, if not for the unnatural stillness and far too pale complexion. She wished she could reach out and take his hand, but she didn't dare uncover him.

It wasn't long before Carson was next to her, tin cup full of warm tea in hand.

"Here," he said, holding it out to her.

She took the cup from him, and he moved to the opposite side of the bed.

"I'll lift him up, you see if you can get him to drink," Carson said.

Carefully, Abigail moved to sit on the edge of the bed as Carson lifted Henry's head enough so he wouldn't choke.

Gently, Abigail pressed the cup to his lips and let a tiny bit trickle into his mouth. As the warm liquid hit his tongue, he finally showed signs of rousing. His brow furrowed slightly as he instinctively swallowed and took a slightly deeper breath, but didn't open his eyes.

Encouraged, Abigail poured a little more of the tea into his mouth. For a moment, he didn't react, and Abigail was briefly worried he might start choking.

"Drink, Henry," she said softly.

He shouldn't have heard her. There was no way.

But he swallowed obediently as if he had.

Abigail didn't outwardly react, except to give him more to drink, but inwardly, she chose to think he had heard her, and felt some tiny shred of relief at the thought.

Surely, if he was responsive at all, it was a good sign.

Swallow by swallow, they managed to get the entire cup down him. Once finished, Carson lowered Henry's head to rest on the pillow again and stood.

"Let's see if we can get him to take one more," he said.

Abigail nodded, handing him the cup to refill.

As he moved away, Abigail took a quick glance to be sure both he and Faith were occupied for the moment, before turning back to Henry.

Reaching out, she rested her hand on his cheek, not liking how cool it felt.

At the contact, he twitched slightly, his head turning toward her hand the barest amount. She lightly caressed his cheek with her thumb before reluctantly pulling back as she heard Carson start to approach.

The slightest whimper escaped him at the loss of contact, the sound both heartbreaking and wonderful. It was such a pitiful, almost pained sound, but it also meant that he really was aware of her, at least on some level.

Carson paused next to the bed and handed her the cup, before once again moving to raise Henry's head, while Abigail coaxed him to drink the new cup of tea.

"That's really good," Carson admitted, once the second cup was drained. He resettled Henry and shifted the blankets slightly tighter around him. "If he's responsive enough to drink, it's a good sign."

"Meaning?" Abigail asked, not yet daring to think positively.

"It means there's definitely hope," he said.

Abigail exhaled softly, allowing herself to feel just a small amount of relief. It was far from a declaration of a clean bill of health, but at least it was progress.

She sat there only a moment more, before moving back to the chair next to the bed. As much as she wanted to be close to him, she thought it might look odd to Carson and Faith if she continued to sit on the edge of the bed.

She knew they wouldn't care, but Frank, Bill, Elizabeth, and Rosemary already knew how she felt, and that was more than enough people to find out in a less than twenty-four-hour span of time, in her opinion. Although, as obvious as it seemed to be to everyone but her, she probably wouldn't be all that surprised if it turned out the doctor and nurse both already knew anyway.

How had her life gotten so unbelievably and confusingly complicated?

It was only minutes after they'd finished with the tea, as Carson was once again changing out the IV, that a shudder ran through Henry. It was slight, so much so she thought she'd imagined it, but only a few moments later, a second one followed.

Carson noticed it too and bent over him, his hand sliding under the blankets to grip Henry's wrist, silently calculating the heart rate as the shuddering quickly became more frequent, until he was shaking all over.

"What's wrong?" Abigail asked, unable to wait any longer for the doctor to speak.

But when Carson turned to her, a smile was spreading across his face. "He's starting to shiver again," he said excitedly. "That's an excellent sign."

"It is?" Abigail asked. "Doesn't that mean he's getting colder?"

Carson shook his head. "Not in this case. Shivering is the body's automatic response to cold. The tremors are an effort to rewarm the body. But, with severe hypothermia, the body can reach a point where it gets so cold, it actually stops shivering. Him shivering now, means he's actually warming up enough for his brain to again register that he's cold and start acting accordingly."

"So, it's good," Abigail said, more for her own reassurance, than for clarification.

"It's very good," Carson said, relief tinging his voice. "We're actually making a dent."

Abigail allowed herself a smile as well, her own relief rising in response to Carson's. "So, does that mean...?" she trailed off, looking at Carson expectantly, hoping he'd say what she so desperately needed to hear.

"It's still too early to say absolutely," Carson said, sounding almost regretful. "But this is a huge step in the right direction. His odds are a lot better now. I'm sorry, but that's all I can give you for the time being."

Abigail nodded. It was still so much better than when Bill had told her, or even when she had first walked into the infirmary. Every little bit of good news was welcome at this point. But she still wasn't going to be able to fully breathe again until Carson told her for certain that he would be fine.

Until that happened. She'd keep waiting... and praying.

 **)()()(**

"Miss Thatcher?" Cody asked as he and Bill sat at the kitchen table.

Elizabeth and Rosemary both moved around the space as they worked to prepare something to eat. None of the adults were particularly hungry, what with the stress and worry of the last few hours, but they felt the need to, at least, try to get Cody to eat, and besides, it gave the two women something to do other than sit and wait.

"Yes, Cody?" Elizabeth replied.

"Is my mom in love with Mister Henry?"

Three adults dropped what they were doing and swiveled to stare at the boy, as the somber mood that had settled over all of them thoroughly shattered. Cody, his arms on the table and his chin resting on one of them as he traced the fingers of his other hand absentmindedly along the tabletop, was oblivious to their shock.

"Why do you ask that?" Elizabeth said slowly, sharing an incredulous look with Bill and Rosemary over the boy's head.

Cody shrugged, his eyes still focused on the tabletop. "I don't know. He just spends a lot of time here now, and my mom smiles and laughs more when he's around. Plus, she was really worried when she heard what happened and has been over at the infirmary for a long time, like she did when I was sick," he said, almost matter-of-fact about it.

Elizabeth shared another dumbfounded look with the other two adults. Sometimes Cody was smarter than they gave him credit for.

"Well..." Elizabeth began. "You should probably ask your mom about that, but if she was, how would you feel about it?" she carefully fished.

"Oh, I like Mister Henry," Cody said, some excitement entering his voice as he finally looked at Elizabeth. "And he makes mom happy." Some of the excitement drained back out of him and he stared at the table morosely again.

"Then what's wrong?" Elizabeth asked.

"She's with Pastor Frank, though. And I like him too..."

"But?" she prompted.

"But Mister Henry is so nice, and he comes with me to walk Dasher all the time, and he walks me home from school almost every day, and he listens, _really listens_ to me when I talk, and he showed me how to teach Dasher new tricks, and he saved me from the river," Cody rambled, the rush of words coming out almost in a single breath. "And mom is different around him. She's happier. And I like seeing her like that." He shrugged. "I just thought, maybe..."

Elizabeth looked at Bill and Rosemary, the three adults all fighting back amused smiles at the boy's explanation. He'd hit the nail perfectly on the head.

Elizabeth wasn't sure how to respond without confirming everything, and that was Abigail's place not hers. So, it was actually Rosemary who moved over to crouch next to the boy and wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, Cody," she said. "These types of things often have a way of working themselves out."

He looked at her thoughtfully. "Really?"

Bill and Elizabeth shared a look and nearly started laughing. Rosemary, for her part, kept a completely serious, earnest expression on her face as she replied, "Oh, absolutely."

Cody seemed to consider that a moment before he nodded, his expression clearing. "Okay."

Rosemary stood, fighting back a smile as she turned her back to Cody and looked at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth snorted softly and quickly hid her face by turning back to the stove.

Neither of them dared look at Bill as all three unknowingly thought the same thing.

If Abigail had been surprised that they had all seen the signs, she was going to be shocked senseless when she found out Cody had picked up on it too.

 **)()()(**

After more than three hours of waiting for news, Bill couldn't take it anymore.

At some point during that time, the cafe had somehow become the unofficial waiting place, as Jack, Lee, and Frank had joined Elizabeth, Rosemary, Cody, and him in their worried, mostly somber, and often silent wait.

Finally reaching his tolerance level for pensive looks, impatient, worried sighs, and fingers tapping on tabletops absentmindedly, Bill stood. He could actually feel himself losing his mind.

Without a word to his friends, he left the cafe and headed for the infirmary. He had to know what was going on.

He hesitated at the door to the infirmary for just a moment. Then, resolve hardening, he opened the door.

Inside, his eyes landed on Henry first. He was still unconscious, by the look of things. Abigail was sitting at his bedside, and Carson was bent over him, blankets pulled back enough for the doctor to press his stethoscope to Henry's chest, listening to his heart and lungs.

Bill briefly glanced at Abigail, meeting her eyes for a moment, before giving Carson his full attention.  
"How is he?"

Carson nodded, looking more relieved than anything. He pushed the blankets back into place, straightened up, and pulled the stethoscope out of his ears as he took a few steps toward Bill. "I think he's going to be okay."

 _Thank You, Lord!_

Bill nearly sagged in relief, not only for Abigail's sake, but his own as well. As much as he felt for her, Henry was also his friend, and Bill didn't want to lose him either. The fear he'd felt when he'd watched Henry go under, and the near panic that gripped him as they'd all waited an eternity for him to resurface, had only been matched by the same terror he'd seen reflected back at him in Jack's and Lee's eyes.

"I'll feel better when he wakes up," Carson continued. "But his temp is back up to normal range, and his breathing and heart rate have strengthened and stabilized. He should be out of danger."

Bill sighed. "Good." He met Abigail's eyes again, mutual relief flowing between them. "I'm glad."

She didn't say anything, but the overwhelming agreement in her eyes was clear as day as she reached out to lay her hand over Henry's where it was just visible at the edge of the blankets.

"I'll let everyone else know," Bill said, looking back at Carson again and offering him a grateful and congratulatory handshake. "Thanks, Doc."

Carson returned the handshake easily, a similar relieved and glad smile on his face, before he shook his head slightly and glanced back at the sleeping man.

"How'd we go from him being the villain, to just being grateful he's alive?" Carson asked, half-joking.

Bill snorted. "That's Henry Gowan for you."

Carson chuckled.

"I'll get out of your way," Bill said, clapping the doctor on the shoulder. "Good work, Carson."

"Thanks, Bill, but the Big Guy's the one you should be thanking. He did a lot more than I did."

"Oh, I have been, believe me," Bill said. "I don't think I've stopped yet."

"Me neither," Carson agreed with a deep exhale.

 **)()()(**

Bill reentered the cafe in much better spirits than when he'd left. As the door opened, those inside looked up expectantly.

"Carson thinks he's going to be okay," he announced.

"Oh, thank goodness," Elizabeth said as they all let out a collective sigh of relief.

"He hasn't woken up yet, but Carson said he should be out of danger," Bill related.

"Cody is upstairs," Elizabeth said. "I'll go tell him." She disappeared into the kitchen and faint steps on the stairs could be heard.

"Well," Jack said, blowing out a breath. "This has been quite the day."

"Yes, it has," Bill agreed.

"But one with a happy ending," Rosemary said.

"Thank you, God," Lee said softly.

"Amen to that," Frank agreed.

Moments later, pounding footsteps heralded Cody's arrival, Elizabeth not far behind him.

"Sheriff Avery, Miss Thatcher said Mister Henry is going to be okay."

"That's what Doctor Shepherd, himself, told me," Bill said.

"I'm really glad," Cody said with a broad smile before it fell slightly. "Mister Henry saved me, but I didn't mean for him to get hurt because of it."

Elizabeth moved over to the boy. "You know it's not your fault, right Cody?" she asked. "He didn't get hurt because of you. It was just an accident."

"But it only happened because I wasn't careful enough," Cody said dejectedly. "Mister Henry told me not to go to the river unless someone was with me. I should have listened."

"Yes, you should have," Elizabeth agreed, not having known someone had previously warned the boy about needing supervision. "But... we all make mistakes. And whether you were supposed to be at the river or not, you didn't mean to go out on the ice, and Mister Henry falling through wasn't your fault. And I can promise you, Mister Henry would rather he fall through the ice than you."

"You think so?" the boy asked.

"I know so," she assured him.

Every single one of them would rather end up in the water than see it happen to Cody.

"I still need to tell him I'm sorry," Cody said.

"That's a very good idea," Elizabeth said. "He's resting right now, but once he wakes up, maybe we can go see him."

"Yeah!" the boy cried, his excitement returning.

After that, the mood shifted to a lighter, more easygoing one. The adults all stuck around, talking and relaxing as they decompressed from the tense worry of before, relieved in the knowledge that another crisis had been averted.

That was, until their calm was shattered once more.

* * *

 **A/N Yay! Henry's okay! … Or is he? *Dun dun dun!* Be sure to tune in next week to find out what happens next. We're not done yet, guys. This roller coaster ride still has a few more twists and turns left in it. :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

It was less than an hour after Carson had declared Henry out of danger that he finally woke.

His eyes opened and he looked around blearily, his gaze not fully focusing on anything until it caught and settled on Abigail, recognition sparking there.

"Henry," she said softly, taking his hand in her own.

His lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak, but instead, sighed heavily and blinked several times, his exhaustion evident as he struggled to stay awake.

"It's all right, Henry," Carson said, moving to his side. "You don't have to talk. I know you're tired, but just stay awake for me a few more seconds. Then you can sleep."

Henry didn't respond, except to tiredly meet the doctor's eyes before looking back at Abigail, but it was enough to tell Carson he was aware, recognized people, and could understand and follow what they were saying.

He quickly listened to Henry's heart and lungs then had Henry squeeze his hands and follow his finger with his eyes.

"All right, everything checks out," Carson pronounced. "You can sleep now, Henry."

Henry looked to Abigail again. She smiled at him and squeezed his hand.

Apparently taking that as permission enough, his eyes fluttered closed, and he instantly drifted off again.

Abigail looked at Carson.

He nodded. "Everything looks good. He's tired, which is to be expected, but he was aware, knew who we were, and could follow orders." The doctor smiled at her. "He's going to be okay."

Abigail grinned, taking one of the first deep breaths she'd had since everything happened. Despite Carson's declaration that he was out of danger earlier, she had needed Henry to wake up and see for herself that he really was okay before she could truly relax again.

Despite her relief, she stayed by his side. Over an hour passed, and at no point during that time did he wake, but Abigail didn't mind. She just wanted to be near him, to see him, and watch his chest rise and fall.

She had no idea what she was going to say to him when he really, fully woke up, but she'd cross that bridge when she came to it. Right now, it was more than enough to just drink in the sight of him, safe and alive.

And on the mend...

Over two hours after he'd briefly woken, she started feeling uneasy. She wasn't sure why. Nothing had seemed to change... and yet, something felt wrong.

She concentrated on Henry, trying to put her finger on what it was that had her on edge. It took her a few minutes, but finally, she heard it.

It was faint, but there was a slight wheeze every time he inhaled. It was the barest sound, but any sound at all when he breathed didn't seem right to her. He suddenly shifted slightly, his face pinching in discomfort, and a short, soft groan escaped his lips.

Hoping to soothe him, Abigail reached out and gently ran the backs of her fingers over his cheek. It had the desired effect as he began to settle again, but Abigail had no chance to feel good about that as she felt the unmistakable heat radiating off his skin.

"Carson?" she called.

Hearing the clear concern in her voice, the doctor was next to her in moments.

"He's burning up," she said softly, looking up at him worriedly.

Carson rested his hand on Henry's forehead, then felt his cheek as well. With quick, experienced movements, he grabbed his stethoscope and pulled back the blankets. Resting his hand on Henry's shoulder and feeling the abnormal heat there, he pressed the stethoscope to Henry's chest, first on one side, then the other.

Despite clearly trying to school his features and remain completely professional, Abigail could still hear the note of alarm in his voice when he finally spoke.

"Faith," he called, and Abigail didn't like the urgency accompanying his tone and movements. "I need to talk to Jack."

Faith didn't look like she knew any more than Abigail did, but she didn't question, instantly heading toward the door.

Leaving the infirmary, Faith paused, quickly trying to decide where to go. Would Jack be at the jail or somewhere else? She thought for a moment, with everything going on, he'd probably be gathered with anyone else who had been worried about Henry. Mentally ticking off the people most likely to be worriedly awaiting news, Faith decided they wouldn't be at the jail. He'd also likely be with Elizabeth, and with Abigail at the infirmary, she'd be the obvious choice to watch after Cody.

Her decision made, Faith made a beeline for the cafe.

Practically bursting through the door, she was relieved to see the Mountie sitting inside with Elizabeth, Rosemary, Lee, Frank, and Bill.

"Jack!"

Everyone's attention snapped to her, concern crossing several faces at her urgent demeanor.

Finally noticing Cody, she quickly schooled her expression and forced her voice to be calm and natural when she next spoke. "Could I talk to you for a minute?" she asked with as normal a smile as she could manage.

None of the adults were fooled, but thankfully, she seemed to have convinced the boy as he relaxed and went back to talking about whatever he'd been discussing when she'd entered.

Jack stood and was somehow quick to approach her, without actually looking like he was in any rush.

"Doctor Shepherd needs to talk to you," she softly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked just as quietly.

"I... don't know," she said honestly. She wasn't sure what was going on, but Carson had clearly been concerned, almost alarmed by something.

"Let's go," Jack, ever the Mountie he was, said, knowing better than to waste time with more questions as he closed the door behind them and they left the cafe.

Only moments later, they were both dashing into the infirmary.

"What's going on?" Jack asked, seeing the concern on Carson's face as he straightened from listening to Henry's chest and pulled the stethoscope out of his ears.

"Jack," Carson addressed, looking slightly relieved to see him, but still all business. "I need to know, when Henry was in the water, did he inhale any of it?"

"I'm... not sure," Jack admitted.

"It's extremely important," Carson said. "Is there any chance he did?"

Jack thought for a moment. "He did go under a few times, and he came up coughing the last time."

Carson closed his eyes and bowed his head slightly as if Jack had just signed someone's death warrant.

"What's wrong?" Jack asked as Carson laid his stethoscope down and turned to stare at Henry, almost sadly.

"I'd hoped maybe I was wrong," Carson murmured, which only served to ratchet the tense atmosphere up another notch.

"Carson?" Abigail asked, fear making its way into her voice.

"I think," Carson began then sighed. "No. I know he's developing pneumonia."

Abigail paled and Jack felt his blood run cold.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly.

Carson nodded. "He already has a fever and his lungs are congested. He's starting to have trouble breathing... And it's only going to get worse."

"But..." Abigail started, sounding as if she couldn't quite understand the diagnosis. "Pneumonia is dea- dangerous, isn't it?"

"Very," Carson confirmed.

Jack had to agree. He'd nearly died from it himself, after all. "It came on so suddenly," he said, not sure, himself, if he was making a statement or asking a question.

Carson nodded, looking drained. "It's not all that uncommon, especially in someone who's already weakened to begin with." He shook his head slightly. "The hypothermia took so much out of him."

"Can... Can he survive it?" Abigail asked, so softly, as if she really didn't _want_ to know, but at the same time, _needed_ to.

Carson sighed again. He was doing that too much for Jack's comfort.

"I don't know, Abigail," he said, honestly. "He's normally strong and healthy, but with the hypothermia... I just don't know if his body is strong enough to fight off the pneumonia too. I just don't know."

Jack felt like he'd been sucker punched. Not five minutes ago, everything had been fine. As far as they'd known, Henry was going to make a full recovery, but now... Now they very well could lose him after all. Pneumonia was nothing to mess around with, and add the severe hypothermia to that...

He looked at Abigail again and almost had to look away at the abject terror in her far too bright eyes.

They just couldn't catch a break today. Not any of them, but especially Abigail and Henry.

First Cody goes missing, then Henry nearly drowns, then nearly dies from hypothermia, only to turn around and get pneumonia from the near drowning. It was like some cosmic joke. Every bullet dodged just sent him careening closer to another one.

Turning, Jack slowly left the infirmary without a word. What was there to say?

Heart heavy, he reluctantly made his way back toward the cafe. How was he supposed to tell everyone this? Right now, they still thought everything was fine. Oh, how he wished he could be that ignorant of the truth.

Walking inside, he felt the dread settle firmly in the pit of his stomach as all eyes turned toward him. He didn't know what was on his face. Shock? Distress? Sorrow? Maybe even some grief? Regardless of what exactly it was, everyone inside instantly saw it as all of their faces transformed from perfectly fine, to knowing... Maybe not exactly what, but they knew it was bad.

Why did he feel like he was about to tell a family one of their loved ones wasn't going to make it?

It hit him, so hard that, for a moment, he was entirely incapable of speech.

He felt like that because... he was.

"I, uh..."

His voice gave out and he cleared his throat, savagely pushing back tears that wanted to fall.

"I have something to tell all of you."

 **)()()(**

No offense to Carson or Faith, but Abigail hated this place.

First Cody, last year, and now Henry? She'd sat in this infirmary by the bedside of people she loved, hoping and praying they'd be okay, too many times now.

Several hours passed, and true to Carson's prediction, Henry grew worse. It was truly frightening just how quickly he declined. Going from seeming to be perfectly fine, to spiking a dangerous fever and struggling to get enough air.

But it was the first time he coughed up blood that she'd very nearly panicked. Carson had calmly assured her that it wasn't unexpected, that it was due to the severe inflammation in Henry's lungs, but the heavy sadness, bordering on defeat, that had seemed to weigh on the doctor had been almost palpable.

It scared her.

No.

It terrified her.

It felt as if she was watching the man she loved fade away. Like he was slipping through her fingers, and there was nothing she could do to hold on to him.

"There's no telling how long we'll be at this," Carson said gently as he approached her sometime late into the afternoon. "If you need to go take care of Cody-"

She shook her head adamantly. "Elizabeth is with him," she said.

As if she would ever consider leaving Henry now. If he died, she wanted to be there with him. She hadn't had that option with Noah.

Unconscious or not, she had to at least try to let him know he wasn't alone, to hope he might know she was there... And if she never got to tell him... maybe he might, at least, be able to feel her love.

Reaching out, she rested her hand on his far-too-warm cheek.

"I'm staying."

 **)()()(**

Frank hesitated outside the infirmary, second-guessing himself.

It had been a few hours since Jack had broken the news to them. To say they were devastated was an understatement. They all knew how dangerous, how life-threatening, pneumonia could be under the best of circumstances, and these were far from the best circumstances.

The moment Jack told them, Frank had wanted to go check on Abigail, but had stopped himself. He knew he probably wasn't high on Abigail's list of people she wanted to see right now, but at the same time, he also knew she must be suffering worse than any of the rest of them. It had been hours since she'd received, quite possibly, the worst news of her life... for the second time in her life.

He was worried.

He may not have been truly in love with her, but he still cared about her. He still considered her a friend, and he wanted to help, if he could.

Sighing, he nearly changed his mind and walked away... nearly.

Reaching out, he turned the handle and opened the door, slipping inside.

As he entered, Abigail looked up from where she was replacing a cloth on Henry forehead. A brief flash of pain? sadness? appeared in her eyes, before giving way to a soft friendliness and a faint smile.

Taking that as permission, he stepped more fully into the room, nodding to Carson and Faith as they moved around, looking like they were mostly just trying to stay busy to avoid having to stand by helplessly.

"Faith, could I talk to you for a moment?" Carson asked.

She looked at him questioningly.

Carson sent her a pointed look and surreptitiously glanced at the other people in the room, before nodding toward the door slightly.

Faith's eyes filled with realization, and she nodded her understanding. "Of course, Doctor."

She led the way as they both stepped outside, leaving Frank and Abigail alone for the time being.

Just before Carson disappeared, Frank sent him a grateful look. The doctor nodded in return and was gone.

Grabbing a chair, Frank set it near Abigail's (careful not to unintentionally crowd her too closely) before sitting down.

"Jack told us what happened. How is he?" he asked.

She shook her head. "He's getting worse," she said, her voice breaking slightly.

He sighed sadly. "I'm so sorry, Abigail."

She nodded, pressing her hand against her mouth as she tried to fight back her tears.

They were quiet for a long moment. He watched her remove the cloth from Henry's head and re-wet it before gently touching it to the unconscious man's reddened cheeks, trying to fight back the heat there.

He could see how much this was hurting her, the potential (and all too likely) outcome already haunting her. He hated it and wished there was something, anything, he could say to comfort her.

He wasn't ready to completely give up on Henry, though. Call him a romantic, but he'd seen the depth of Henry's feelings for her. And he was a preacher. The Bible was basically one big story about the awesome power of love, hope, faith, and trust. And whether Frank liked it or not, he didn't doubt this love Abigail and Henry shared, was from God. That counted for a lot.

He waited until she resettled the cloth on Henry's forehead and leaned back slightly in her chair, before he spoke again.

"Does... Does he know how you feel about him?"

She shook her head. "We never had the chance to talk," she admitted quietly, hating that she was talking to Frank about this. He didn't deserve that. But she had to tell someone, and he had asked.

"I think it's good that you're here. He needs something to live for," Frank said. "He needs you. You give him something worth fighting for."

"You think it's that simple?" she asked.

"I think love is an extremely powerful thing. So is prayer," he said. "When paired together..." He shrugged. "Miracles can still happen. Even in this day and age."

He hadn't been sure his simple words would mean much to her in this moment. They sure hadn't sounded like much to his own ears. But as she turned to meet his eyes, he was pleased to see some small amount of hope appear in her gaze.

"Thank you, Frank," she whispered. She reached out and squeezed his hand, grateful to him beyond words. "Thank you."

He nodded with a soft smile, understanding her gratitude even though she couldn't find the words to properly express it. "I'm always here for you, Abigail. As a pastor, or as a friend. Always."

* * *

 **A/N Pneumonia. Well, that doesn't sound too good... You have to love Frank, though. He's kind of awesome. But aren't all of the WCTH characters? ;) Anyway, let me know what you think and feel about this chapter! It always makes my day to read about how much you guys enjoy this story, and how invested you are in it. :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Frank had stayed with Abigail, offering silent support, for some time before finally taking his leave.

She would never be able to express to him how much she appreciated everything he'd said and done for her, throughout all of this. Just having someone there meant so much, but for it to be Frank, meant even more to her, especially after everything that had happened between them just... was it still only yesterday?

From the moment Cody had been discovered missing, the hours had dragged by for her. It was late in the evening now, the sun having set some time ago. But there was still no end in sight, as Henry only continued to decline.

Each breath was a struggle now, rasping and wheezing painfully in his chest. Every so often, he would cough weakly, his body too tired to do more than that. But sadly, that weakness did nothing to stop the specks of blood from appearing on his lips with almost every labored cough.

He alternated between shivering and sweating as his fever burned on. Most of the time, he was still, almost alarmingly so, but occasionally, he would shift weakly, agitated. His brow would furrow, whether in pain or fever induced nightmares, she couldn't know for sure.

Twice he'd opened his eyes. It was clear he never saw his surroundings, too delirious from the fever. He'd looked around sluggishly, but no less panicked, as he struggled to breathe, fighting against something only he could see.

Both times this happened, she had just started talking to him. She wasn't sure how aware of her he was, if at all, but her voice did seem to soothe him some as the fear in his gaze had faded and he'd gradually relaxed until his eyes had fluttered shut once more.

Carson kept a close watch on him, giving him IV fluids to be sure he didn't get dehydrated. The hot water bottles that had been so instrumental in warming him from his hypothermia, over half a day ago, had switched functions and were now filled with cool water. Carson, Faith, and Abigail traded on and off, tending to him as the night wore on, one day changing into the next as midnight came and went, steadily replacing the cool water bottles, and the cloth on Henry's face, as the fever continued to rise dangerously.

Ultimately, though, there wasn't much they could really do. They were all so helpless, powerless against the raging sickness slowly draining the life out of him.

As the night stretched on, and it became ever clearer that what little they could do for him wasn't a three-person job, Abigail had started trying to convince Faith and Carson to head home and get some sleep. She would not be leaving Henry's side until this was over, however it turned out. But that didn't mean they had to stay there too.

Carson adamantly refused to leave his patient, at first, but as the hours wore on, Abigail and Faith had finally managed to convince him. The final push came when Abigail suggested that, since it was purely a waiting game right now, Carson should get some rest in case anything changed and Henry really needed him later. The last thing Carson would want was to be too tired to help Henry effectively.

It was mostly that line of logic that resulted in Carson, very, very reluctantly, heading home to get some sleep.

Not long after, Abigail was able to use much of the same reasoning to convince Faith to also call it a night. It was much harder to convince the nurse to leave, with Carson already gone too, but the truth was, either Henry would recover or he wouldn't. There was nothing more any of them could really do, except hope and pray. Ultimately, Faith gave in and left as well.

So now Abigail was alone as she tended to Henry.

For most of the day, it had taken everything she had not to break down crying, repeatedly. Now that she was alone, it became even harder.

It was all wrong. So wrong.

Henry wasn't supposed to be struggling just to draw in a single breath. He wasn't supposed to look so weak and fragile.

He was so strong, in so many ways. Everything he'd managed to mentally and emotionally make it through and endure since returning to this town... And she'd felt the physical strength he possessed, when she'd been in his arms, and had heard how he'd thrown Cody almost ten feet to safety, something that normally shouldn't have been possible, for anyone, but in that moment, he had done it.

She reached out and tenderly brushed the damp hair off his forehead.

He stirred, his head turning slightly toward her touch. She caressed his cheek, hating the unyielding heat she felt there.

A low, strained moan escaped him, followed by a cough that once more stained his lips with red. She shushed him and caressed his face again, running her hands over his fevered skin.

Reaching into the basin of cool water beside her, she moved from the chair and knelt on the floor next to him. Gently, she wiped the blood away from his lips and brushed the cloth over his flushed face, trying to provide some small relief.

He whimpered, and a tear slipped down his cheek.

"Shh." She softly wiped away the tear. "I'm here. It's okay. It will be okay," she murmured. She didn't know if he could hear her, but she hoped so. She hoped he knew she was there, that she cared... that she loved him.

Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

He inhaled, the breath catching slightly, before he let it out, the barest whisper, so soft she almost missed it.

"Abigail."

A startled sob tore free from her. He knew. On some level, he knew she was there.

She blinked, a few tears managing to escape before she could push them back, and all she could think was how much she loved the way he said her name. No matter the context or the situation, no matter how many times he said it, there was always something in the way he said her name that made it sound so new and special every time.

Even now, on the slightest breath and the quietest whisper, it was still one of the most wonderful sounds she had ever heard.

"I'm here," she said again, her voice slightly strangled by the tears she was trying to hold back.

He wasn't supposed to be suffering like this. He'd made mistakes, but, at his core, he was a good man. He didn't deserve this. He wasn't supposed to be lying there, unconscious and in pain, as a reward for saving her son's life.

He was supposed to be the kind, sweet, funny, and, at times, soft spoken and adorably shy man she had grown accustomed to the last two months.

Two months? Had it only been that long? It couldn't be. She couldn't have fallen in love that fast.

And she hadn't.

She'd been falling for him since well before he returned to Hope Valley, even before last Christmas when he'd brought Becky home. She was sure of that now, but...

When had it actually started?

The Christmas before last, when she'd decided to befriend him whether he liked it or not? When he had saved Bill from Ray Wyatt and offered to turn state's evidence?

She couldn't be sure when it had begun, but she knew when it had started to solidify. When she found out he'd specifically asked Bill to let him stay in town an extra day just so he could find out if Cody was going to be okay. She knew that was the moment her... friendship? affection? ...whatever feelings she'd had for him, had truly started to grow into love.

And now... Now that she'd finally realized it...

If she lost him...

Her hands trembled at the thought and she clasped them together, almost desperately, as fear washed through her. Her breathing hitched, and her eyes blurred with frightened tears.

"Please," she whispered, leaning forward to rest her forehead against her clasped hands. "I beg of you, please don't take him from me." The tears slipped free from her closed eyes, and this time, she didn't try to stop them. "I believe you gave me this love for him for a reason, and I don't believe it was only so I could lose him after finally realizing it. Please heal him. Please bring him back to me."

With a shaky breath, she opened her eyes, wiping at her tears, and picked up his hand. She held it for a long moment before pressing it to her cheek and closing her eyes once again. His breathing hitched, strained and wheezing, his lungs fighting a losing battle.

"Stay with me, Henry. Stay with me."

 **)()()(**

As Carson left the infirmary, he turned and moved tiredly up the street, feeling absolutely defeated. He rubbed at his tired eyes and sighed. As a doctor, he hated days like this. When, despite everything he knew and all of his skill, there was still only so much he could do.

Sighing heavily, he glanced up the street and paused as something caught his eye.

Amid the darkened town, lights were still shining from the windows of Abigail's cafe. It was long after midnight, and everyone in town should be in their homes, asleep, at this hour. Brow furrowing in confused curiosity, Carson moved toward the building.

When he opened the door, he saw Jack, Elizabeth, Lee, Rosemary, Bill, and Frank sitting huddled around a few of the tables, holding vigil and looking about as miserable as he felt.

"Carson?" Jack was the first to notice him, concern covering his face and quickly taking over the rest of them as they all turned toward him.

He inwardly winced. He hadn't thought how his sudden presence might alarm them.

"There's no change," he quickly assured, causing them all to relax with a bit of relief, followed by disappointment. "Abigail convinced me to go home and get some rest, and I saw the lights on." He sighed, dropping into a chair near them and scrubbing a hand over his exhausted face. "Is Cody asleep?" he asked, noticing the boy's absence.

Elizabeth nodded. "He was pretty upset about the news earlier and wanted to stay up. We finally convinced him to go to sleep a few hours ago."

Carson sighed yet again. "I just wish there was something more I could do. For all my knowledge and skill..." He shook his head.

"In my line of work, when you've done all you can and reached the end of yourself, it's time to look to the one who is never limited or helpless," Frank said.

A barely-there smile quirked up Carson's lips. "Yeah, it's the same way in my line of work too."

"I've been praying almost nonstop since all of this happened, but I wouldn't mind praying with someone," Elizabeth said.

"Me too," Rosemary agreed.

"When two or more are gathered," Frank said.

"That sounds pretty good to me," Lee added softly.

The next thing Carson knew, they were all standing in a circle, holding hands and bowing their heads.

"God, You know I've done everything I can," Carson prayed. "I've used all of the knowledge and skill that You gave me, but it's not enough. I need You to take over. You are the Great Physician, and I'm putting Henry in Your hands, Lord."

"Lord, Your word says that when two or more are gathered together to pray, You are there," Elizabeth began. "We know You're here, right now, and we know You're with Henry. We pray for healing and recovery for him. Satan is attacking him right now, but Your word says 'Do not fear them, for the Lord your God is the one fighting for you.'"

"And we're asking You now to fight this battle for us," Jack entreated, "because we don't have the strength or capability to do it ourselves. We need Your strength and power, now more than ever. We're at the end of ourselves. We're worried, Lord, and heartsick. We have nothing left. All we can do is turn to You. You are the only one who can do anything now, and You are the only one who can sustain us. We need You, God. We need You to move like only You can."

"The Bible says 'come to Me all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest,'" Rosemary said. "We're all weary and brokenhearted right now, Lord, and You are close to the brokenhearted. You said in Your word for us not to fear or be dismayed because You are our God and will strengthen and uphold us with Your right hand. '"For I will restore you to health and heal your wounds," declares the Lord.'"

"God, we know You've been working in all of this," Lee prayed. "We've seen the evidence of all the changes You've made in Henry and in all of us. You changed him, and You brought him back into our lives. He's made all of our lives better, has changed us all for the better. You've used him to touch all of our lives, and You used him to save Cody, but none of us feel like You're through with him yet. He still has more work to do, more lives to change. We pray that he has the chance to do everything You have planned for him."

"Father, You know none of us want to lose Henry," Bill picked up. "He's our friend and we love him, but we know You love him more. So, we lift him up to You right now, and we also lift up Abigail and Cody to You, because we know they're both hurting even more than we are. Comfort them, Father, whichever way this goes, draw close to them."

"Lord, You've heard the prayers of everyone here. We're all asking You to please be with Henry. We trust Your plan, Father, but if at all possible, please don't take him. He has too many people who still need him here. We know the battle is not ours but Yours, Lord. So we are relinquishing all control to You. We plead the blood over Henry tonight, Father. In Your mighty and loving name, we pray. Amen," Frank finished.

"Amen," the others agreed.

A peace settled over them that had been missing during all of the long hours of waiting and worrying. They were still concerned, still didn't want to lose their friend, but no longer did they feel so afraid and heartsick, as their faith and trust in God took over and He soothed their souls.

* * *

 **A/N Sorry, this one was a little on the short side, guys. It has been a _week_ for me. But things should be calmer next week, so I'm planning to try to make the next chapter longer than the last few have been. On a slightly different note, did any of you guys see the most recent episode of the show? What did you think about it? Feel free to drop me a review and let me know what you thought of this chapter and/or the show. **


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N** ** **I promised you guys a longer chapter this time, and boy did it end up being long. Almost 7,000 words! That's nearly 3 times the length of the last chapter. I kind of surprised myself when I realized how long it had turned out, but it sort of took over and just naturally turned out that way. But I suspect you guys won't be too upset about more words to read rather than fewer. :) Anyway, I hope you guys like it! Enjoy!****

 **Chapter 18**

When Henry opened his eyes, it was all he could do to keep them that way. He was exhausted, fatigue pulling at him.

He blinked slowly, the infirmary coming into view. The room was dim, but not entirely dark. Evening? Or early morning? He wasn't sure. He was so groggy, he couldn't even entirely remember what had happened to land him there, but there was something about... Cody?

The ice. The memory resurfaced, shadowy and shrouded in drowsiness, the details missing. He knew enough that Cody was fine, at least. Beyond that, he didn't care right now. It was too taxing to try to recall more.

Blearily looking around, he finally became aware of a slight weight on his hand. Turning his head, his breath caught slightly and he felt a little more awareness return as his eyes landed on Abigail's beautiful face.

She was asleep, her head resting on the edge of his bed, her hand gently gripping his own. Moving sounded insurmountable, but he focused all the strength he had to raise his hand, carefully extricating it from hers.

His arm shook and weakness assaulted him, but he refused to give in. Lightly, gently, he rested his hand on her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb, content to just watch her peaceful expression as she slept. But the touch must have roused her as she shifted slightly, and her eyes slowly opened.

His heart skipped a beat as those precious eyes came into view.

She blinked, not fully awake for a moment, before registering the hand on her face. The moment she did, her eyes flew to meet his own and he smiled softly.

"Henry," she breathed, pure relief in her voice and her eyes growing bright.

Reaching out, she felt first of his forehead before resting her palm against his cheek. A tear slipped free of her eyes as she felt the cool, fever-free skin.

Moving his thumb, he weakly wiped it away, only for more to join it. His hand shook slightly, his body losing the battle with fatigue.

Her free hand came up to cover his, helping to hold it in place as he caressed her cheek again.

She let her eyes slip shut, overwhelmed with gratitude. "Thank you, Lord," she whispered.

He struggled to keep his eyes open as she looked at him once more. He wanted to say something, but it took strength he didn't have to form words and make them heard.

But as the hazy memory of what had happened to him tried to surface again, and he still couldn't pull it into focus, the slightest twinge of worry niggled at the back of his mind. The recollection was too vague for his comfort. He somehow knew Cody was fine, but couldn't remember enough details to know _how_ he knew that. Just knowing wasn't enough. He had to be sure. Opening his mouth, he forced his throat to form the word he needed.

"C... Cody?" His voice was nothing more than a breathy whisper, but it still cost him.

A painful cough tore from his lungs, and he was forced to pull away from her to clutch weakly at his chest as fire shot through it.

Abigail shushed him softly, reaching to comfortingly cover his hands with her own as he feebly clawed at his chest.

All too slowly, the pain faded, allowing him to relax and breathe again, feeling even more exhausted than before.

He panted, a metallic taste coating his tongue. In the next moment, Abigail was gently wiping at his mouth with a damp cloth that came away... bloody? Some distant part of his mind thought he should be concerned about that, but it took too much energy to focus on more than one thing at a time, and he had something more important to worry about at the moment.

"Cody is fine," she assured. "You saved him. You saved my son, Henry. I can never thank you enough for that."

"I..." He pulled in a slightly wheezing breath, stubbornly refusing to let his body win this round. "I'd never let... anything happen to him," he murmured, his fatigue and shortness of breath not detracting from the determined vow underlying his words.

She wanted to hug him, to kiss him again, to tell him just how much she loved him, before all of this and even more now, but she only squeezed his hands where they still rested on his chest. "I know," she said softly. " _Thank you._ "

He smiled slightly, giving her hand the softest squeeze in return as he fought to keep his eyes open.

She reached up, brushed the hair off his forehead, and caressed his cheek once more. "Rest, Henry. Sleep. I'll be here when you wake up."

His eyes were already closing before she finished speaking, and in moments, his breathing deepened and evened out in sleep.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair in a soothing rhythm as he drifted off.

She wanted to talk to him about everything, the kiss, how she felt about him, but he was so weak and tired. As badly as she wanted to have that conversation, she wouldn't do that to him. When he was recovered, then she'd tell him everything, but not now. Not yet.

She couldn't simply stay silent, though. Just because she wouldn't make him deal with any of it yet, didn't mean she didn't still feel the need to say it, out loud, at last. Seeing him awake and knowing he was going to be all right, that God had healed him and brought him back to her... She just couldn't hold it back any longer. So, when she was certain he was fully and deeply asleep, she leaned forward and softly kissed him on the cheek before whispering, so quietly as to nearly be inaudible. But only nearly.

"I love you."

 **)()()(**

Abigail stayed by his bedside, watching him sleep and just drinking in the sight of him. His complexion looked the healthiest it had since he'd fallen through the ice, and his face was finally peaceful in sleep.

He had woken around dawn, light just starting to peek through the windows, but now about an hour had passed, thankfully uneventfully. Abigail largely spent that time simply listening to the wonderful sound of improved breathing. It still wasn't great, but it no longer sounded like the strained rasp of a dying man. When the infirmary door softly opened, she was once again sitting in the chair by his bed, her hand still holding his.

She turned as Carson appeared, looking better than when she'd last seen him, if not completely rested.

She smiled brightly at him. "His fever broke, and he woke up briefly a little over an hour ago."

Carson blew out a deep breath, actually leaning back against the wall, his shoulders sagging, and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Thank you, God," he said softly, blinking back tears of relief.

"Amen," Abigail agreed.

Taking a deep breath, Carson pushed away from the wall and grabbed his stethoscope. He lightly rested his hand on Henry's forehead, careful not to wake him as he felt for any abnormal warmth. Putting the stethoscope into his ears, the doctor pressed it against Henry's chest, listening closely to his breathing.

"He's still congested, and probably will be for a while, but he's leaps and bounds above where he was last night," Carson said quietly.

He didn't think Abigail's smile could get any wider.

"You said he woke up. Was he aware?"

She nodded. "He asked about Cody. I told him he was fine. He was exhausted and could barely stay awake."

Carson nodded. "That's to be expected. This took a toll on his body. He's going to be very weak and tired for a good while. Is Faith still here?"

Abigail shook her head. "I convinced her late last night to head home and get some sleep. She didn't want to leave any more than you did, but there really wasn't anything she could do here."

He nodded. "She looked about as tired as I felt last night. Did you get any sleep at all?"

Abigail nodded. "Some. Enough," she added.

He didn't say anything, knowing better than to suggest she go home and rest. There was no way she was going to leave Henry anytime soon. But, although she looked tired, she didn't look exhausted, so he chose to let it go for now.

"One of the best things he can get right now is sleep," Carson said. "So I'm not going to disturb him. I'll do a more thorough check on him when he next wakes up." He put away his stethoscope as he moved back toward the door. "Chances are, though, that won't be for a while, and I imagine most of the others are already awake, if they ever even went to sleep at all. I know they'll want to hear the good news, so I'm going to step out and go find them."

"Others?" Abigail asked.

"Jack, Elizabeth, Lee, Rosemary, Bill, and Frank. I found them holding vigil at the cafe on my way home last night," he said.

Abigail's eyes grew bright at that, touched beyond words. "Please tell them thank you for me."

He nodded with a small smile. "You're not the only one in this town who loves him," he said softly before slipping outside, leaving Abigail to blink after him in surprise.

She turned back to look at Henry.

"No, I suppose I'm not," she whispered with a soft smile.

 **)()()(**

"He's going to be okay," Carson announced as soon as he entered the cafe, his friends all still there, looking like none of them had gone home the night before.

At his pronouncement, a bevy of questions assaulted him, drowning each other out.

He held up his hands to quiet the relieved and joyful cacophony. "I just came from there. His fever broke, and his breathing has improved. Abigail said he woke up briefly and asked about Cody. He's sleeping now."

More than one smile, and many tears, appeared inside the cafe, amid an exchange of handshakes and hugs, as relief and joy wrapped around all of them. Once the excitement wound down, they all collapsed back into chairs, looking completely drained but still happy.

Carson took a seat as well, looking at his friends and knowing, just as surely as they did, that God had come through for them, had answered their prayers and healed Henry. Because all of his medical knowledge said Henry should not have been able to survive. He'd been too severe, too weak, too far gone. And yet, he was still here, was recovering, and out of immediate danger. All in less than twenty-four hours since everything began. If that wasn't a miracle, Carson didn't know what was.

"Carson?" Elizabeth asked softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

"Is anything wrong? You looked like you were thinking pretty hard there."

He shook his head. "Nothing wrong, just... I'm constantly amazed."

"By what?"

"God," he answered. He cleared his throat, trying to decide whether he should tell them or not... "I didn't want to tell any of you this last night... but when I left the infirmary to head home, I really thought it would be the last time I saw Henry alive."

No one said anything, but each of their eyes widened.

"Everything I know as a doctor, said he would not survive. He was too weak and the pneumonia too severe. I truly thought when I went to the infirmary this morning that he'd either already be gone, or nearly." He sighed softly. "I didn't intend to tell any of you this, but you have to know, this was a God thing. An honest to goodness miracle. He shouldn't be alive, but God answered our prayers last night."

The awe and amazement that came over their faces matched his own, and more than one fervent "Thank you" could be heard.

"I'm so glad," Elizabeth said.

"Especially for Abigail," Rosemary added before her eyes went wide and she shared an alarmed look with Elizabeth, as if she'd let something slip that she shouldn't have.

However, one look around at everyone's faces made it clear, no one present was in the dark about this.

"All right, so, clearly, we're all on the same page here," Carson said slowly.

As he spoke, everyone else began to exchange glances, also realizing there was no confusion to be found amongst them. But several gazes unconsciously darted toward Frank, the tone in the room awkward.

He sighed. "It's okay. I'm not blind."

"Abigail said you two split up," Elizabeth said gently.

He nodded. "If I'm being honest, it's been over for a while, I just didn't want to see it."

"I'm sorry, Frank," Bill said, uniquely qualified to know how Frank was feeling at the moment.

He smiled sadly. "Sometimes what we think we want, isn't what God has planned for us." He paused, taking a deep breath. "But, it has been my experience, when God decides to send you in a different direction, He prepares you for it, and gives you the strength to accept it."

He received understanding, if sympathetic, looks and smiles from his friends.

They all lapsed into a brief, contemplative silence. So much had happened in just the last few days, let alone the last... barely two months. When they really stopped to think about it all, it was hard to take in. And yet, in some ways, it all seemed to make perfect sense too. It was strange.

"So, no one here is surprised about Henry and Abigail? Even a little?" Rosemary asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. She would have thought at least some of the men would have been completely oblivious, but, apparently, they were more perceptive than she gave them credit for. Plus, it had been fairly obvious to anyone with eyes, except of course, to Henry and Abigail themselves, clearly.

"Well, let's be honest," Carson said, "who here hasn't seen it?" Even he'd noticed it long before Henry had ended up in his infirmary.

No one raised their hands.

"Exactly."

"I suppose it was rather hard to miss," Rosemary agreed.

"When I stop to really think about it, it does kind of surprise me, I guess," Elizabeth said. "But at the same time, it doesn't? I'm not sure that makes sense."

"I think I know what you mean," Jack agreed. "Everything that's happened the last couple months... It's almost surreal. I never would have thought I'd ever call Henry Gowan a friend, but somehow, now I can't imagine not."

Lee huffed softly and shook his head. "That makes two of us. And he's not just a friend, he's actually a _good_ friend."

"I know," Jack agreed. "I _never_ would have believed it, if I hadn't lived it."

"I don't think I would have believed anything that's happened the last two months if I hadn't lived it," Elizabeth admitted.

No one had any problem agreeing with her.

"It's amazing how quickly life can change," Bill mused.

"Sometimes in an instant," Frank added, but his tone wasn't upset or bitter, just matter-of-fact.

Lee nodded, knowing very well how even one moment could change so much, thinking back to many such moments in his own life, from the death of his brother, to the moment he first met Rosemary, to the conversation he'd had with Henry the day Bill had practically forced him to offer the man a job. Life, perceptions, emotions, viewpoints, they could all shift and pivot and be completely altered by a single event, a word, a look. And when he added all of those things up, they formed his life. They'd all led to this moment, and if he removed even one small thing, good or bad, his life would look completely different, he'd _be_ completely different.

Blinking free of his very deep introspection, he realized they had all fallen silent again. He looked around, seeing similar thoughtful and contemplative expressions on all of his friends' faces. Apparently, he wasn't the only one having deep, meaningful reflections today. Nothing like almost losing someone you care about to do that to you.

But as he studied his friends, he realized he also hadn't heard anything from his wife in... at least a few minutes. That had to be a new record.

Turning his head, he looked at her. Anytime Rosemary became unusually quiet, it caught his attention.

Her expression looked... well not upset exactly, but disgruntled? Dissatisfied? Puzzled, maybe? He wasn't entirely sure, but felt some concern starting to rise up within him.

Reaching out, he gently took her hand, gaining her attention. "Sweetheart? What's wrong?"

"I think I'm losing my touch," Rosemary replied gravely.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Lee said, with that very confused look on his face that had become almost common for him, ever since... Well, ever since he'd met Rosemary.

"I used to be a pretty good matchmaker, in my day," she announced, the comment doing nothing to enlighten Lee as to what in the world she was getting at.

No one argued with her, but an eyebrow or two rose skeptically at her statement.

"But here, I never saw Abigail and Henry until it was practically staring us all in the face," she lamented.

Lee didn't roll his eyes, barely. He loved his wife with all his heart, but Rosemary's tendency to overreact as if the world was ending (thus worrying, startling, or outright scaring him), only for the issue to turn out to actually be pretty trivial, was going to give him a heart attack someday.

"I just wonder how long I've been missing it," she mused, completely oblivious to Lee's deep sigh and slight shake of his head, as he rubbed a hand down his face.

Nor did she notice the barely controlled, entirely unsympathetic, and amused grins her husband's fondly tolerant expression was drawing from the other people in the room.

"Well, I can tell you for a fact, neither of them realized it until last night. And no, that's not a story I'm going to be telling right now," Frank said. "How long they've actually... loved each other, though, I have no idea."

"Henry's been in love with her since last Christmas. Actually, well before even then," Bill said.

They all turned to look at him incredulously.

"You've known that long?" Rosemary asked in shock.

Bill shrugged. "I might have spent a little more time around him during those days than the rest of you," he said with a tinge of amusement as he remembered his, at first irritating, and later not-so-terrible, responsibility of guarding Henry while the man had been in the Hope Valley jail. "But it was only recently that I was finally sure she felt the same way."

Rosemary sighed dejectedly. "I really have lost my touch. Even Cody saw it before I did."

"Cody?" Carson asked.

Bill snorted and Elizabeth fought back a grin.

"While we were with him yesterday, after Abigail left to see Henry, he asked us if his mom was in love with him," Elizabeth said.

"Are you serious?" Lee gaped.

"Oh, yes," Bill confirmed. "He was pretty matter-of-fact about it too. Almost just thinking out loud."

A few laughs that were part amusement, part relief, and largely fatigue broke out among them. Because let's be honest, at this point, they were all practically subsisting entirely on coffee.

"Man, I would have loved to have been there for that," Jack said.

Bill chuckled but sobered as his eyes landed on Frank. The pastor was quiet, seeming lost in thought and mostly oblivious to the conversation around him.

"Frank? You okay?" Bill asked.

Frank shook himself out of his thoughts and looked at him. "Yeah, just, when you mentioned Cody, it got me thinking. I know Henry cares about Abigail, but it's not just her."

Carson nodded. "Yeah, I've seen how he is with Cody too."

Most of them paused to think about it before nodding.

"I know he saved Cody on the ice and everything, but even that aside, he's really good with him," Elizabeth agreed.

"You know, back when Cody had appendicitis and we didn't know if he'd make it," Bill said, "Henry asked me to let him stay in town an extra day before I took him to trial, just so he could hear the news of whether Cody made it or not."

"I didn't know that," Elizabeth said, not the only one looking surprised at that revelation.

Bill nodded. "It wasn't just prison that changed him. It started well before that."

Jack sighed softly and shook his head slightly as he dropped his eyes to stare at the mostly empty coffee cup in his hands.

"Jack?" Bill asked, noticing his odd reaction.

Jack briefly met Bill's eyes as he fidgeted with the coffee mug uncomfortably.

"I have a confession I feel I need to make," he admitted.

His friends remained quiet, waiting for him to speak with mixed expressions of openness and concern.

"When Henry first came back, I wasn't in any hurry to forgive him. In fact, I didn't _want_ to forgive him," Jack admitted. "I convinced myself that I wasn't holding a grudge, that I was just being cautious. You know, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me?" He shrugged. "I convinced myself that I was being careful in case he wasn't reformed, but the truth was, I was holding a grudge against him. I was still angry about the things he'd said and done over the years, and I didn't believe him capable of changing. Every time I looked at him, I only saw the things he'd done, and I judged him for it." He shook his head again. "It was just so much easier to still be angry, to hold it all against him. I didn't even know how to forgive him, to let those things go. And I don't think I ever could have on my own, even if I had wanted to."

"What changed?" Lee asked, after a moment of silence.

"It was the day Henry was accused of stealing from you," Jack said. "I believed the accusations instantly. It was like I'd been waiting for him to do something or slip up, all along." He briefly dropped his gaze, still ashamed of his thoughts and behavior that day. "But between the sense Bill tried to knock into me before we came to your office, and then the look on Henry's face and the proof that he hadn't done anything wrong... It was like someone had slapped me upside the head and told me to wake up. I blinked, and suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, I saw Henry, a man, another human being, instead of just seeing a list of transgressions. I realized that I'd been walking around judging him and looking down on him as if I was some perfect saint who was above him. Until that moment, I hadn't even been fully aware I was doing it, but that was no excuse."

He sighed deeply. Despite how far both he and Henry had come, there were things about that day he still regretted.

"When I saw the look on Henry's face... He was devastated, and I felt so guilty," Jack admitted. "I know that God is the only one who has a right to judge a person, but I still did it. And it's _so_ _easy_ to do." He shook his head. "However, realizing something doesn't mean you can just change it. I was still angry. I still couldn't let go, or forget all of the things he'd done, but once I was aware of it, I also became aware of what it was doing to me. The anger was eating away at me, making me bitter. I felt... tainted by it, but I couldn't get rid of it. So, I prayed and asked God to help me. Although, I have to admit, it was for selfish reasons. I just wanted to stop feeling like that, but of course, God actually took it a step further."

Jack paused a moment, swallowing the last of his lukewarm coffee before slowly continuing.

"It didn't happen all at once, though. I still didn't feel anything remotely positive toward Henry, but I decided to make a concerted effort to at least be civil to him." He leaned back in his chair and shrugged. "I don't know, maybe I thought if I faked it long enough, it would become real. But as I spent more time around him and continued to pray daily about it, things started changing. My interactions with him became less and less of an effort, and my prayers became less and less selfish. It happened so gradually that I didn't even realize what was happening at first."

He met each of his friends' eyes, ending with Elizabeth who squeezed his hand and gave him a small, reassuring smile.

"God was changing me," he said. "He was changing my heart. Until one day, it just hit me. I could finally look at Henry and not see all the things he'd done wrong, all the mistakes and bad choices he'd made. And I could talk to him without constantly thinking of people he'd hurt." Jack fell silent for a moment, trying to find the best way to describe it, even to himself. "It's not like I've just forgotten the things he did, but they no longer make me angry. They don't hurt me anymore. I have to admit, I've never had to personally and directly forgive someone who had done so much and hurt so many people in so many ways, myself included. I don't think I really knew the true depths and power of real forgiveness until all of this happened. To be able to think back on the things he did and feel at peace with it all..." He shook his head in amazement. "I could have never done that on my own. It was God and only God who did that, but... it wasn't until much later that I realized, He couldn't do it until I let Him. Until I asked Him to help me, to change me, I was keeping Him at arm's length and denying Him permission to take away the hurt and the anger that I hadn't even realize was poisoning me. But now, I feel so much freer and cleaner. I feel like He healed some part of me that I didn't even know was damaged."

"I know exactly what you mean," Lee spoke up. "I was _just_ like you, Jack. I wasn't going to persecute him, but I also wanted nothing to do with him." Lee scoffed derisively at himself. "In my arrogance, I thought that if I didn't walk by and spit on him, then I was doing good and was forgiving him. That I was being so wonderful and gracious by not openly scorning him." Lee shook his head slightly and met Jack's eyes. "Your eye-opening moment came that day in my office. Mine came the day Bill asked me to give Henry a job. I mean, first Bill had to practically blackmail me into it. There was no way I was letting Henry Gowan anywhere near my business... but then I actually talked to him. I was fully expecting him to accept the job offer on the spot and be so grateful about it." Lee looked away. "I'm ashamed to say that some part of me was looking forward to having something I could lord over him." He forced himself to meet his friends' eyes again, beyond grateful and humbled to only see understanding, and not condemnation, in the gazes staring back at him. "But then he made this comment... He said something to the effect that, he wasn't sure he wanted to take a job that was similar to running the mine or the town because... how did he say it, Bill?

"Because he didn't particularly like the person he'd been when he had those jobs," Bill supplied.

"That was it," Lee agreed. "Then, believe it or not, he offered to work manual labor at the mill, instead of the office job I was offering."

"Wow," Elizabeth said, completely unable to picture Henry Gowan chopping down trees and sawing them up.

"I know it may seem small and really simple for those comments to be what it took to change my whole outlook, but it was like I was sitting in a dark room and didn't even know it until someone suddenly turned on the lights," Lee said. "From that moment, I felt so convicted by God for my attitude and behavior, and, like you Jack, I started praying and asking God to forgive me for my arrogance and my hateful thoughts and actions toward Henry, and to help me do better. And He did. I honestly can't believe how quickly God was able to change me once I was willing to let Him."

"You know, Lee," Elizabeth said, "you may think it was simple or small that just a comment could change your perspective, but that's what happened to me too. I was just like both of you," she said looking between Jack and Lee. "I had no intention of just letting everything he'd done go. I mean, he conspired with Ray Wyatt to get me fired. But Abigail asked me to at least give him a chance and to try to be civil. She half lectured me and half begged me, so I agreed, but, I admit, my heart wasn't in it, and God knew that. He knew that I was just going through the motions so I could be seen as the good person who was willing to be nice to the terrible monster. But then Henry asked me to call him by his first name, because addressing him by his last name reminded him of the person he had been before, a person he didn't like."

She paused and shook her head in amazement.

"That one little request caught me so off guard and hit me so hard, that it was just like what you said, Jack. It was like someone had hit me and told me to wake up. And I know that it was God. He used that to get my attention, and in that moment, I felt like I could see Henry the way God did, like I was looking through His eyes. I saw a man, broken and bruised. Someone who had made terrible choices and huge mistakes, but still a man. Not a monster or a creature. Not some kind of animal, but a fallible, imperfect person, just like all the rest of us. And a person who deeply regretted what he'd done. It was like God was speaking to me, telling me that I'm no better than Henry. I'm just as flawed. I make mistakes just as easily, and yet, God still loves me and forgives me every time. And He loves Henry too, and forgave him. I know God was telling me right then and there, that if He could forgive Henry, then I had no right not to. Because all the things I was holding on to, God had already forgotten, just like He'd forgotten all the mistakes and bad choices I've ever made. Then, because God is so merciful and gracious, He forgave me for judging and condemning Henry, and then He helped me forgive him too."

"It sounds like we all have similar stories," Carson said. "When I heard Henry was coming back to town, for a brief moment, I wanted to hold a grudge too, but then my very next thought was what it was like after my wife died, when her sister kept blaming me for her death, even following me around and tracking me down just so she could punish me further. The thought that I had considered doing, even remotely, the same thing to someone else, actually sickened me, and I vowed to God to forgive Henry."

"It was kind of the same story for me," Frank said. "But it was mostly thanks to how badly I treated you, Carson. When you first came to town, I was so mistrustful of you and just knew you were up to no good, and I didn't even know you." Frank looked down at his hands for a moment. "I, of all people, should know, everyone deserves second chances, and I failed to remember that with you, and God convicted me greatly on that one. But I think, maybe, that was supposed to happen," the preacher admitted. "Because due to that, I was much more in the right frame of mind to be there for Henry. To be someone he could talk to, without more persecution. God prepared my heart and mind to be the pastor Henry needed when he came back here. God did it all. He set up and moved and changed everything, in us and in this town, to fit with His plan."

"And He started it years ago," Bill said. "I don't know exactly what made Abigail take a chance on Henry again, but she sort of befriended him a couple of Christmases ago. It was around the time that odd peddler came into town. I've always wondered if that could have had anything to do with it."

"That guy did seem to have just the right object or words of wisdom for everyone's biggest problems that Christmas," Frank agreed. "You know, he had the very Bible I had while in prison. He gave it back to me, and it helped me to help Nancy and Harper. Ever since then, I've wondered if it was possible he could have been some kind of messenger from God."

"Like an angel?" Rosemary asked.

"Maybe," Frank admitted. "The Bible says to be careful how you treat others, because you could be entertaining angels and not know it. Whether he was an angel or just a man, God most definitely used him that day. That same Bible is the one I gave Henry several weeks back when he told me he'd read the Bible extensively while in prison but didn't have one of his own."

"I didn't know he read the Bible while in prison," Elizabeth said.

"I think God has been working to heal and shape Henry into the man God wants him to be, for a very long time now," Frank said.

"And He's changed all of us in the process too," Bill said. "He's used every one of us. I mean, He already had Abigail, Frank, Carson, and me in place to be there for Henry when he got back, so he wouldn't be completely alone in all of this. And He made quick work of helping all of the rest of you along too. And in return, God gave us all a new friend."

"And even used Henry to save both Jack and Cody," Elizabeth said.

"What was the turning point for you, Bill?" Jack asked. "If you don't mind me asking," he amended.

"It was actually after I arrested him, but before his hearing was scheduled. It was just one night while we were in the jailhouse, we started talking and... I can't even really explain it. It wasn't like we made amends and everything was fine, but it was like something shifted between us from enemies to... well not friends, but..." He trailed off, trying to find the right words to explain it. "It was like we were both able to lay our past history to rest, finally, and start over, in a way. I wasn't anywhere near trusting him or anything then, but as time passed, it was like a peace with the past grew inside me until I was able to move on with a clean slate and really give Henry a second chance. From there, all I had to do was spend five minutes with the man to see he really had changed. He's not the same man I've known for so many years. It's like you said, Jack. I haven't forgotten everything he's done. I don't think any human ever can truly forget hurts and wrongs, but when I think of the past, it doesn't haunt me anymore. I feel at peace with it all, like it's over and done with and I can move on. And I know that's God's hand at work in me. That's the only way it's possible."

With wholehearted nods of agreement from everyone present, a comfortable silence descended over them as they all let the enormity of their lives soak in a bit.

They'd all had such similar experiences... It was really strange, but in a very inspiring kind of way.

And with that thought, Lee was pretty sure the coffee had ceased to fully power his brain anymore, because that did not make all that much sense when he really thought about it.

Shaking his head slightly, Lee chose not to analyze it too deeply. Things would make more sense once he'd finally gotten some sleep... maybe. There was no telling these days. Their lives were something else right now. Amazing things seemed to constantly be happening to, and around, all of them, Bill, Frank, Elizabeth, Jack, Carson, himself, Rosemary...

Lee blinked and looked at his wife, only just realizing there was something missing from the previous conversation, or rather, someone. Reaching over, he squeezed her hand.

"Rosie?" he asked, breaking the silence. "You haven't told us your story."

"Well, mine isn't some big, profound thing, like the rest of you," she said with a slight shrug. "I'm not even sure when or how it happened. It was so subtle and gradual, I suppose. But last Christmas, when we all thought Henry had run off to try to escape, I was so disappointed, and I wasn't even sure why at first, until I realized that I had hoped for better from him. That I had seen some potential for good in him, and I was disappointed that his criminal nature had won out instead. That's one reason I was so glad when it turned out to be the other way around. The good in him was what won out. I guess that was when I fully realized that, somewhere along the way, I had managed to stop being against Henry, and had started rooting for him instead." She smiled. "I suppose I'm just a sucker for a good redemption story."

"It never ceases to amaze me how God works sometimes," Elizabeth said. "Not only did He do so many impossible things and put all the intricate pieces in place that had to fit just so to make everything work out right, but He decided to give all of us similar stories just because He could. It's almost amusing, in a very awe-inspiring way. I just love it when He does things like that."

"You mean the things that the world looks at and says are impossible, only for God to say 'Just watch me' and make it all look effortless and completely perfect?" Jack asked.

"Exactly," Elizabeth said, wrapping her arm around Jack's and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I like the way you put that, Jack," Lee said.

"Amen to that," Frank agreed.

"Someone should embroider that on a pillow," Carson mused. "Just watch me! Sincerely, God."

They all turned to stare at him with some very odd expressions on their faces.

"And on that note, I declare us all sleep deprived," Bill said dryly.

If the sound of undeniably hysterical laughter filled the cafe for several minutes after that, well, they had a good excuse for it.

* * *

 **A/N Yay! Henry's okay! (again). This time, I promise it's for real. However, this story is still not done. There are still some things that need to be worked out between Henry and Abigail. At least, I think so, but maybe I'm wrong. What do you guys think? Should I just leave it here? Henry and Abigail have this all figured out, right? I'm just kidding. :P There's still more to come. Stay tuned!**

 **P.S. So season 5 is officially complete. Those of you who have seen it, thoughts on the season finale? All I'll say, is I was surprised, and yet, not surprised, if that makes any sense.**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Please be sure to read the A/N at the end of the chapter. There's something pertaining to this story that I need your opinions/input on. Thank you in advance, and enjoy the chapter!**

 **Chapter 19**

The next time Henry woke, he was much more aware. He was still weak and tired but felt like he might be able to actually stay awake longer than just a few minutes.

Without thinking, he pulled in a deep breath and instantly regretted it as his lungs seized up, refusing the once so simple movement.

His chest spasmed as deep coughs tore out of him. Fire once again shot through his chest, and he tried to curl in on himself, but his body protested the movement on the grounds that it was completely exhausted.

He was really starting to wonder if he'd ever be able to breathe again, as the coughing seemed to go on forever, when, finally, his lungs apparently grew bored with trying to exit his body. He collapsed back against the bed, chest heaving in shallow, desperate gasps of air.

It was only as his vision cleared again that he became aware of the hands on him and the face hovering above him.

Carson.

The doctor was gripping his shoulder gently and saying something... warning him not to breathe too deeply?

Thanks, Carson, but he really could have used that advice sometime _before_ his week-long coughing fit.

"Now he tells me," Henry whispered breathlessly.

Speaking took effort, especially at this particular moment, but the twinge that shot through his chest and throat was worth it to see the concern fade from the doctor's face. If he could make a joke, then he wasn't dying.

Carson smiled, partially amused, but mostly relieved. "Sorry about that. You're going to want to breathe easy for a while." He put his stethoscope into his ears and listened to Henry's lungs for a long moment before removing the earpieces. "You're doing better, and I'm extremely glad to see no blood come up on that last coughing fit, but your lungs are far from completely recovered."

Henry chose not to ask what the doctor meant about blood. That topic sounded a bit more concerning than he was really prepared to deal with at the moment.

"Yeah, they were just enlightening me to that," he responded instead, one hand rubbing at his sore chest, while the other...

He blinked, only just realizing his hand was being held by someone. And it most definitely wasn't Carson.

Turning his head, his breathing actually stopped for a long moment, and it had nothing to do with his coughing.

Next to him, sat Abigail, her hand holding his, and it was only then that he remembered the last time he'd woken. The memory was hazy, marred by fatigue, but he remembered her being there, remembered asking about Cody and finding out the boy was fine, but not much else.

He had no idea how long it had been since that had happened, but she was still there, still next to him, looking at him like... He wasn't exactly sure what he was seeing in her eyes, and something in him refused to try to decipher it. It was just too dangerous to do so. He was fortunate enough that she was there at all after...

He tensed slightly as he also remembered what had happened between them before everything with Cody. He had thought she'd never voluntarily be in his presence ever again. But then he'd saved Cody and nearly drowned. Maybe she felt obligated? Or just grateful? He didn't know, but it was both wonderful and crushingly painful to see her there, next to him.

He forced his gaze away from hers, fearing if he didn't, his heart might actually break, and focused back on Carson.

"What, uh... what exactly happened?" he rasped. He remembered the ice and Cody, but the bone-deep exhaustion, the extreme irritation he could feel in his lungs, and the far-too-much effort it was taking to make them expand properly, wasn't adding up in his head. This seemed a little different than just getting too cold.

Carson blinked at him as if only just now remembering Henry had been almost entirely unaware since his hypothermia, and thus wouldn't know what else had happened to him.

"Jack got you back to town after you went through the ice," Carson said. "You were severely hypothermic. We were able to get you warmed back up and thought you were in the clear, but then you developed pneumonia."

Henry's eyebrows rose. Well that explained a lot. No wonder he felt so terrible... Wait.

"How..." he paused, wondering if he should even ask.

"What is it, Henry?" Carson asked, slightly concerned.

He licked his dry lips and asked anyway. "How close was it?"

He tried to keep his attention off of Abigail, but his brain was unhelpful enough to notice her slight wince and thick swallow out of the corner of his eye. That... wasn't an encouraging response.

Carson paused for a long moment, not needing to ask what he meant. "It was really close, Henry," he said somberly. "You had a lot of prayers going up for you," the doctor admitted.

And that was even more telling.

He nodded, a strange mixture of fear and surreality flowing through him. It was odd to be awake, feel mostly okay, or at least on the mend, but then be told he had come dangerously close to dying, which he didn't even remember, no matter how hard he tried.

He could remember the fear and panic of thinking he was going to drown. That was plenty real and clear in his mind, but he couldn't remember almost dying from pneumonia. Wasn't someone supposed to know and be aware when they were dying? Was it that easy to just slip away and never even know it, until it was over? That was somehow scarier to him than almost drowning had been.

"But you're going to be okay now," Abigail said as she honest-to-goodness reached out to touch his shoulder, without letting go of his hand.

It was all he could do to not widen his eyes in shock as he looked at her. How was he supposed to react? She was acting so... friendly, so open, and even caring. He... really didn't know what to do with this. It all seemed so... _normal._ Almost like how things had been before the... the kiss. Almost like it had never happened... but it _had._ It most definitely had, and he couldn't forget it.

"She's right. You made it through the most dangerous part. Now, you just need time to fully recover," Carson agreed, unknowingly, but thankfully, saving Henry from having to respond in any way to Abigail (something he wasn't sure he was capable of right now without making things a lot worse), while also giving Henry a valid reason to look at the doctor and away from her perfect, beautiful face and eyes-

 _No! Don't go there._ If he hadn't been afraid of coming off as rude, he would have pulled his hand away from hers. Not because he didn't want her holding his hand, he never wanted her to let go, actually, but being this close to her, with her hand on his shoulder and her thumb gently rubbing across the backs of his fingers...

It hurt.

Because he wasn't blind anymore. He was fully aware of how he felt now, and that was a genie that could never be put back in its bottle. He looked at her, and his heart cried out in longing, even as his mind viciously reminded him that she could never love him back, for so many reasons.

After everything he'd done, there was no way she could ever feel like that for him. He was incredibly blessed she was even his friend. But that was all she was. On top of that, she was with Frank. Henry didn't even factor into the equation and never would.

"Henry? Are you all right?"

Her voice startled him. She looked at him with worry in her eyes, and he realized he hadn't responded to either one of them.

"Sorry," he said, his voice rough from the coughing. "Just tired." Which was not at all a lie. He felt completely drained, the familiar, tired, achy feeling that came from having had a fever, clung fiercely to him.

Her worry faded amid understanding and sympathy.

"You're going to feel like that for a while, I'm afraid," Carson said. "Your body has been through a lot the last couple days, and its not going to recover from this quickly."

He nodded without enthusiasm. "Sounds fun," he rasped.

Abigail abruptly turned toward the small table next to his bed, and as much as he'd wanted to let go of her hand a moment ago, he only barely stopped himself from reaching out to her as she let go of him, leaving him feeling suddenly bereft. But scarcely a second later, she was turning back, a cup in hand.

"Here," she said softly as she moved to sit on the edge of his bed.

And he was certain his heart really did stop for one long beat, before it took off racing, as her hand slid under his head and gently helped him lift it as she held the cup for him while he drank the heavenly cool water from it, his shaky hands useless to help.

The water felt amazing on his parched throat. He hadn't realized just how thirsty he'd been.

As he drained the cup, he looked up at her. She was so close. He never wanted her to move.

She met his eyes and smiled at him, her expression so soft, almost... tender, that in that moment, he thought, if the pneumonia did somehow still manage to kill him, he could die happy now.

But then she was pulling away and standing to go refill the cup. It was only then, that he remembered Carson was still in the room with them, but thankfully, the doctor was partially turned away, writing something on a clipboard. Medical notes, maybe?

"Thanks for looking after me, Doc," he said.

Carson turned toward him. "Actually, it's her you should be thanking," he said softly, nodding toward Abigail, her back to the two of them. "She hasn't left your side since you were brought in."

Henry turned his head to look at her, feeling a sort of awed gratitude that she'd do that for him.

As she returned and set the refilled cup on the table, she looked at him, her gaze scrutinizing.

"You look like you could use some more sleep," she said as she retook her seat.

He opened his mouth to argue, not wanting to go back to sleep just yet, when a wide yawn betrayed him, and he blinked tiredly.

"That's what I thought," she said with a chuckle, the sound wonderful to his ears.

He shook his head slightly. "I'm fine."

His statement might have been a bit more convincing, if it hadn't come out as a groggy murmur.

"Yes, you are," she said softly, reaching out to brush her fingers through his hair.

If he'd been more awake, he would have been surprised by the action. As it was, the touch seemed to be all it took to tip the scales, and his eyes slid shut despite his best efforts.

"Get some rest, Henry," she said.

He turned his head slightly toward her touch, her beautiful voice floating through his mind as he succumbed to sleep once again.

 **)()()(**

A week passed, and Henry was still in the infirmary, too weak to be moved back home yet. He spent more time than he would have liked sleeping, his mind wanting to be awake, but his body demanding rest.

The first several times he'd woken, Abigail had still been by his side. He couldn't describe how much it meant to not have to wake up alone. To have a friendly face there when he opened his eyes and took the few seconds he always needed, to remember where he was and why. After his time in prison, he'd developed a strange tendency to become startled when waking up in a not entirely familiar place.

But as much as he loved to see her every time he opened his eyes, he couldn't keep expecting her to stay and cater to him like that. After the fourth time he woke to her still there, smiling at him, holding his hand, reassuring him as he got his bearings, he finally forced himself to convince her to go home. She needed rest too, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know how long she'd had to be away from Cody in order to be there for him. He refused to ask her to keep doing that, regardless of how badly he really wanted her to stay.

She had argued at first, but once he mentioned Cody, she had reluctantly agreed, promising to return soon. He couldn't deny that he was glad she planned to come back.

And she had. She had come back and stayed with him, hours at a time. She had even offered to go to his house and get some of his things when it became clear he was going to be stuck there for a while. He'd tried to refuse, but she had been adamant, and he had caved.

She'd returned, a short time later, with a small bag containing some spare clothes for him, and a basket of her scones.

He smiled when he saw the scones, but the thing he was most happy to have was the Bible in her hand, which she'd brought at his request.

Now that he was able to stay awake longer and she wasn't by his side constantly, he had a lot of time on his hands when he was alone. It reminded him a little bit of prison, confined to one room and alone quite a bit of the time. Might as well make the whole experience complete and pass the time reading. Which was exactly what he did. He would read until his vision blurred and he once again fell asleep. More than once, he'd fallen asleep while reading, his Bible coming to rest open on his chest, but when he woke, it would almost always be lying, carefully closed, on the table next to his bed.

Sometimes she would be there, smiling down at him, her hand on his, and sometimes only the evidence of her presence remained. He always regretted waking up to find out he'd missed her because he'd been asleep.

Of course, Carson and Faith also came and went regularly, checking on him, and in Carson's case, he'd often sit and talk for a while too. And Carson wasn't the only one of his friends to make an appearance. After the first few days of his stay, and once he was strong enough and wasn't sleeping constantly anymore, his other friends began paying him regular visits as well.

Bill was first, and one of the most frequent to visit him (aside from Abigail, of course), but Lee was a close second. The first time the mill owner had come, he'd brought Henry some paperwork from the mill and proceeded to go out of his way to explain that Henry didn't have to do any work, that he didn't expect that at all, but just figured Henry would be getting bored before long, and it was all he could think of to bring to help to pass the time.

Henry had laughed at his rambling friend and thanked him. The paperwork had actually been a good idea. It gave him something to do and made him feel useful at the same time. So, the next time he'd seen his boss/friend, he'd asked him to bring more.

Jack also visited when he could, their conversations possessing an ease and friendship that Henry never would have imagined was possible even a month ago. Elizabeth and Rosemary also stopped by here and there, usually to bring him food, which he had no problem with at all, considering it was always made by Abigail.

Then there was Frank.

He'd also visited, but only once. The encounter had been incredibly awkward for Henry, although he'd done his best not to show it. Frank had acted normal enough, making Henry wonder if Abigail hadn't yet told the preacher about what had happened between them. Then he'd had to wonder if he was going to have the be the one to do so eventually. He couldn't hide it from the man forever. That would be wrong. However, he wasn't going to do it while still bedridden either. He owed Frank far more respect than that.

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one looked at it), Henry didn't think that particular conversation would be happening anytime soon. His body was, apparently, in no real rush to recover, as his improvement remained annoyingly slow.

He was strong enough to sit up now and could stand and walk short distances, but got out of breath easily, and still had horrible, painful coughing fits whenever he overexerted himself. He often became frustrated with himself, his body seeming to take great pride in betraying him at every turn. The fatigue never fully left him, no matter how much he slept, and a slight, deep ache in his chest had become his constant companion.

Carson had warned him to be patient, but it was hard to when his mind was recovered, but his body insisted on fighting him every step of the way. Thankfully, this was greatly tempered by his friends. Just knowing he had so many people who cared, made a huge difference in his recovery.

However, he had to say his favorite visitor was the one who came a little over a week after he'd first woken up.

He was just finishing up another round of paperwork that Lee had brought him, when the door to the infirmary opened.

"Mister Henry!" Cody's excited voice greeted him as the boy ran to his bedside, Abigail not far behind him.

"Hey, Cody!" he eagerly returned, setting aside the papers.

He briefly met Abigail's eyes, and she smiled at him. He easily returned it before shifting all of his attention onto Cody. It was the first time Henry had seen him since the river, and he couldn't believe how happy it made him. He'd missed the boy.

"Mom said you're feeling better."

"That, I am," Henry assured him.

The boy smiled at him for a moment before his face suddenly fell, and he look away.

Henry furrowed his brow in concern. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"I'm really sorry," the boy whispered.

"For what?" Henry asked, confused.

Cody finally met his eyes again, looking distressed. "You got sick because of me."

Henry's eyes briefly flicked to meet Abigail's, and she shrugged slightly. She'd tried to reassure the boy that it wasn't his fault, but he refused to accept it.

Henry blinked.

How had he gotten all of that from one look and a shrug? He hadn't realized he could read her well enough for that level of unspoken communication.

Shelving those thoughts for later, he turned back to Cody. Smiling fondly, he reached out and rested his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Cody, I'm only going to say this once, and I want you to believe me when I say it, okay?" he said, his voice gentle.

The boy nodded gravely.

"In no way, was this your fault. It was an accident, nothing more. You are not to blame, and you have nothing to apologize for. You understand?"

The smile that crossed Cody's face wasn't huge, but it was completely genuine as he nodded.

"Thank you for saving me, Mister Henry."

Before he could respond, the boy reached out and wrapped his arms around Henry's neck.

He froze, completely stunned for a moment, before hugging the boy back, shoving down the slight pang that ran through him at Cody's use of his name. How he wished it was something else that Cody called him, but he viciously swiped that thought aside before it could even fully form. That was something that could never happen, and he had no right to even wish for it.

"You're welcome, Cody," he said softly.

Everything he'd been through, the hypothermia, the pneumonia, all the after effects of recovering, it was all worth it for this moment. For this boy to be healthy and unharmed... he'd go through all of it again and again if that was what it took.

* * *

 **A/N So, some slightly sad/bad news. This story is starting to wind down guys. At this point, it's looking like there will be one more chapter followed by a short epilogue. However, I do have an idea floating around in the back of my head for a little one-shot that would take place a few months after the end of this story. Now, I know you guys don't know how this is going to end, but would you be interested in reading a little bit more about Henry and Abigail, and everyone else, within this storyline? Please let me know.**

 **Now, be sure to stay tuned for the next chapter. I have a feeling it's going to be the one you've all been waiting for. :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

He'd only been home a few days and already was going stir crazy.

He passed much of the time studying and finding comfort and solace from his problems in the Bible, but ultimately, there were only so many hours in the day that he could sit and read before he started having near flashbacks to prison. But unlike then, he wasn't being confined by walls, but by his own body.

At least in the infirmary, he'd had his friends to come visit him to help pass the time, but since coming home, he hadn't seen another person. He was just glad they'd brought him a week's worth of food before abandoning him. Otherwise, he'd have long since starved to death without anyone even knowing.

He sighed. That was unfair. He couldn't blame his friends for not dropping everything to come babysit him because he was bored. They had lives and obligations that did not revolve around him. Not to mention, with Christmas fast approaching, they'd all be even busier than usual.

He was just sick and tired of being sick and tired. Literally.

He may have been home, but he still needed rest. He had more energy now, but still tired more easily than he liked and still had persistent, albeit brief, moments of breathlessness as his lungs continued to heal. The episodes were few and far between now, thankfully, but still very annoying. On top of that, going outside, even for a few minutes, had his chest seizing up on him as his lungs refused to play nice with cold air these days. He honestly wasn't sure if that was from the pneumonia or if it might be psychological due to his dip in the river and severe hypothermia.

And, as if that wasn't bad enough, his knee was also giving him trouble lately. Ever since the extreme cold of the river, it had been stiff and uncooperative. It was getting better, but was still sore most of the time.

His bad knee didn't like hypothermia-inducing cold. Noted. Neither did his lungs. Go figure.

But perhaps the worst part, was that he often felt slightly sleepy, enough to make him lethargic and a little fuzzy, but not enough to actually sleep most of the time. Irritating, didn't being to describe it. The whole thing was infuriating, and he was so ready to get back to normal.

Two and a half weeks. That was how long it had been since everything had happened. He was trying to not be ungrateful. He'd nearly died, twice, and in two different ways, after all. And the two weeks it had taken before he was even strong, and recovered, enough to leave the infirmary and return home, was only further evidence of how bad it had really been. But he was still here, still alive. He had so much to be glad about and thankful for, but it was much easier to remember that, than to actually feel it when the days dragged by amid trying weaknesses and limitations, which, most days, felt like would never go away.

Feeling too tired to read or sit in the living room, he went to his bedroom and laid down. He wasn't really expecting to be able to sleep, but he'd rather lay down and rest more comfortably, than keep sitting up.

He sighed and stared at the ceiling without really seeing it, fatigue blurring his vision and robbing him of his ability to focus on any one thought for very long. It reminded him somewhat of when he'd been sick.

He couldn't remember much from that time. Only bits and pieces, flashes of memory, many of which he wasn't even sure we're real and not fever-induced hallucinations.

The thing he remembered the clearest was the cold... and the fire. He remembered feeling cold, so deeply cold he thought he'd never be warm again. But warmth did eventually return, soothing and rescuing him from the chill... until it turned against him too. It grew until it became unbearable, as if he was burning from the inside. Fire licked at him. It burned him, suffocated him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't escape. It alternated with the cold, first scalding, then freezing, before blazing again. And around and around it went.

He tried to move, tried to cry out, but a low, strained moan was all that would come.

Suddenly, there were soft, gentle hands on his face, so cool and soothing on his tortured, inflamed skin. They caressed his cheeks and ran over his forehead, pushing back the consuming, clinging heat of the fire, just slightly. Those small, delicate touches felt like heaven to him, like even a single drop of water on the most parched throat.

The feeling of cool, damp fabric being gently touched to his face, brought such relief he wanted to cry. Maybe he did. Because in the next moment, he heard murmuring. He couldn't make it out, but it comforted him somehow.

The voice stopped speaking and the coolness briefly stopped, only to be replaced with something else.

Soft lips pressed against his forehead. The featherlight caress seemed to seep into his mind and heart, all the way into his soul.

He wasn't fully conscious. He wasn't really aware. But somehow, he knew. The name came unbidden and slipped out, barely audible, on his next, labored breath.

"Abigail."

Henry jerked awake, only just realizing he'd even fallen asleep. He groaned softly. Now his very dreams were tormenting him? Was there no peace to be had anywhere? And to make matters worse, he really wasn't sure if it was a dream, or a memory, or the memory of a fever-induced hallucination.

 _I love you._ The barest, vaguest hint of a whisper floated across his mind.

He nearly growled in frustration. He knew _that_ wasn't real.

He sighed. His mind was such a mess, pulled in all directions by the war between hope and reality being waged inside him, to the point that he wasn't even sure what _was_ real anymore.

Except that he still loved her with every fiber of his being.

He hadn't thought it possible to love her any more than when he'd first realized he did, but somehow, in the last weeks, it had grown farther and deeper than he would have thought was possible. But when was love ever bound by possible?

He sighed. Yet more questions he had no answers to.

All he was truly certain of anymore, was his love for her...

And the fact that he could never have her.

He scrubbed his hands over his face, feeling more miserable upon waking than he had before falling asleep.

 **)()()(**

Abigail fidgeted nervously with the coat in her hands as she came to a stop at the front door to Henry's house.

It had been several days since he'd been well enough to return home, and he was more than well enough to talk to, to finally have this conversation. He'd been well enough for a while now, actually. She could have talked to him sooner, but she'd decided to let him have some time to settle back into his home. However, plenty of time had passed, and she had put it off long enough.

Pausing outside his door, she took a deep breath, nervousness vying for her attention, but determination winning the war. She'd almost lost him. Had almost had to sit by and watch the man she loved die... again. She refused to let fear rob her of even a moment more.

It was time.

Raising her hand, she knocked on the door.

When it opened and she saw him, her heart melted. Every woman, at least at some point or another, dreamed of being looked at like that, with such tender, loving longing, as if she was everything to him. How did it take her so long to notice it? How had she been able to blind herself to it for so long?

It was all she could do not to step forward and kiss him right then and there. Instead, she smiled warmly at him.

"Abigail," he whispered, almost reverently.

And now she was wishing _he_ would step forward and kiss _her._

"Henry," she returned.

"Come in," he said, moving aside to allow her to pass.

 **)()()(**

The knock on the door was both unexpected and not at all surprising.

He knew who it was as soon as he heard it... Or he hoped he knew who it was.

He hadn't seen her since the day he'd left the infirmary, but part of him had actually expected her visits to wane or cease altogether once he was home. He was mostly well now, and she didn't have to feel obligated to take care of him anymore. She'd already done so much for him. But even gratitude had its limits. She'd even done him the service of pretending the kiss between them had never happened, and had allowed the awkwardness of that to remain firmly in the background. The cowardly part of him had hoped maybe it would never come up.

However, there was an entirely other part of him that had hoped she might come to visit him, might still spend time with him, show him kindness. She could never be his, but if he could just still be her friend, he could get by. It could be enough... He'd learn how to make it be enough.

Closing and setting aside his Bible, he stood and made his way to the door. His hand paused on the doorknob, uneasiness suddenly gripping him. He swallowed hard and shook himself. She was just checking in on him. Stop being so nervous.

He opened the door and felt his heart flutter, as it always did at the sight of her these days. She smiled warmly at him, and his heart did another flip. He could spend the rest of his life watching her smile.

And yeah, that sounded almost creepy. He shoved aside the ridiculous thoughts and emotions and forced himself to focus.

"Abigail," he said softly.

"Henry," she greeted, and oh, did it both elate and kill him to hear his name come from her lips.

 _No!_ He mentally scolded himself. _No thinking about her lips._

He quickly shut that line of thought down before it could take him back to that night and make him start acting all awkward and weird... or rather, _more_ awkward and weird than he was already being.

"Come in," he said, seeking some level of normalcy as he stepped aside to allow her to pass.

"How are you doing, Henry?" she asked as they entered the living room.

"I'm doing pretty good, Abigail, thank you for asking," he said.

They both stood there, neither moving to sit, the atmosphere somehow strained, despite all the time they'd spent around one another, without issue, when he'd still been confined to the infirmary. It made sense, though. Things were different now that he was home. Now that he was no longer bedridden, his health a constant worry for everyone. He was okay now. She didn't have to take care of him anymore to pay him back for saving Cody.

And yet...

"I wanted to visit sooner, but I figured you'd want some time to yourself to settle back in," Abigail said.

Henry nodded, almost wanting to cry. She was still being a friend to him, and he wasn't really sure why. Was it just because he'd saved Cody? Or maybe because he'd almost died? Or was she feeling sorry for him? Did she pity him now? ...Had she always?

"I brought you this," she said, offering him the coat he'd only just realized she was holding.

He reached out and took it from her. It was his coat, the one he'd left behind after...

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and used the excuse of laying the coat over the back of his chair, as an opportunity to turn away from her so she couldn't see or read anything on his face or in his eyes.

"How's, uh, how's Frank?" he asked, more to remind himself of the way things stood, than out of genuine interest.

Abigail looked at him in confusion. Frank? Why was he asking about Frank? "Fine, I suppose," she replied with a slight shrug. "At least, he was the last time I saw him."

Henry nodded, turning back to face her and hiding everything away, especially the pain it caused him to even think about them together. He had no right to feel that way.

"Well, the next time you see him, tell him I'm sorry for monopolizing so much of your time recently."

"Where else would I have been?" she asked, as if it should be obvious. She didn't understand how this man could be so blind sometimes.

Henry nearly winced. She was really going to make him say it? _Breathe. You can do it,_ he mentally coaxed himself.

He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "You know... spending time with Frank, I guess."

That's when Abigail's confusion cleared and she actually chuckled, which left Henry feeling very confused all of a sudden.

"Henry, Frank and I are no longer seeing each other. We're just friends."

"What? Why?" Henry asked before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry, that's none of my business. Please forget I asked," he stammered, embarrassed by his rude question, even as something very traitorous deep inside him (hope) leapt at the news.

This time she laughed, amused by his awkward embarrassment.

"He saw us, actually," she admitted softly, after a moment. "That night."

Henry felt himself pale. No. No. No. Frank had seen them and was angry enough to stop seeing Abigail. What had he done?

"Henry, it's okay," Abigail quickly said, seeing his distress. "It didn't end because of that." She sighed. "That night was just what finally made us both realize we weren't meant to be. It's been over for a long time. We just weren't able to see it. We care about each other, but that's all. It isn't love. Not the kind to build that type of relationship on. But we'll always be friends."

Henry breathed slightly easier. He wasn't sure if she was being fully truthful with him or just trying to spare him, but chose to go with the former.

"Henry, why did you leave that night?" Abigail asked. "Why did you run away?"

"I..." He'd been expecting this conversation ever since he'd kissed her, but was still wholly unprepared for it. "I had to."

"Why?" she pushed.

"It was a mistake," he said.

"Oh..." she said softly.

Her expression and voice suddenly looked and sounded somehow disappointed and... hurt?

"You didn't want to kiss me?" she asked, looking away. Could... Could she have misread him that badly?

"What? No!" he cried, unable to let her think that for even a moment.

Relief briefly flooded her, and she looked at him again. "Then how was it a mistake?"

"We could never be together," he painfully admitted, "and I knew that. I shouldn't have kissed you."

"Why could we never be together? You're not being very clear here, Henry," she sighed.

"I don't deserve you," he said, the truth of it bitter on his tongue. "After everything I've done... You deserve so much more, so much better, Abigail."

And oh, if that didn't make her love him more. The foolish man.

"Why don't you let me decide what I do or don't deserve? As well as what I do or don't want," she said with a raised eyebrow.

"Abigail," he growled in frustration. Why was she talking like this... like _they_ were even a possibility? He would almost wonder if she was purposely trying to hurt him, but knew she wasn't capable of that. "You shouldn't be with me. Not like that, not even as a friend, really. This town hates me. If you and I were together..." He broke off, unable to move past the thought of them being together, or rather, all the reasons why they couldn't be.

"Henry Gowan!" Abigail yelled forcefully, curling her hands into fists and planting them on her hips. "I am no damsel in distress. I can worry about my own reputation. Thank you very much! And why do you care what anyone else thinks?"

"About me? I don't," he said. And he didn't, because in his mind, _he_ didn't matter. "But about you... I won't do anything that would hurt you in any way, not even emotionally or socially. If staying out of your life is what ensures that, then so be it."

She smiled softly at him. Could the man be any more loving, self-sacrificing, or adorably idiotic?

"For starters, you clearly haven't been out and about enough lately. Ever since you saved Jack, and then Cody, many in town have started singing a different tune. There are, of course, still those who are waiting for the old you to resurface, or for you to misstep in some way. You're not through yet. It's going to take time. But you've already changed a lot of minds."

Henry opened his mouth to speak, but never even dared as Abigail held up a finger, her expression one that no man would be dumb enough to challenge.

"Second, as sweet as it is for you to want to protect me, I decide my life and my choices. I don't let others or their opinions do so for me. In other words, I don't care what they think. Certainly not about this." Besides, as far as she was concerned, the people who mattered the most, her friends, held nothing against Henry. As for anyone else... well, that was their problem, not hers.

Henry looked away, his jaw working and pain still lurking in his eyes.

"But it's not just that, is it?" she asked. "You said that night that you 'had no right.' What did you mean?"

"You were with Frank," he answered, a little _too_ quickly.

"True," she admitted. "I'm not now, though."

He didn't speak, didn't look at her, partially turned away and blindly staring into the fire.

"It's more than that. I know you well enough to see it." She moved closer to him, reaching out to touch his arm, but he shifted away, almost flinching. "Talk to me, Henry. Please."

He swallowed hard. His eyes, when they finally met hers, were bright, and his voice thick when he spoke.

"I have blood on my hands, Abigail," he whispered, sounding so broken.

This time, she didn't have to ask what he meant. She could practically see it in his gaze.

"I may not have been convicted for the mining disaster, but that doesn't make me innocent. So many deaths still rest on my shoulders..." A tear traced its way down his cheek. "Including those of your husband and son."

His eyes dropped to the floor, and his shoulders shook with a breathy sob.

"I have no right to..."

"Oh, Henry," she said softly, sadly.

She reached out and hugged him tightly. He didn't return the embrace, but he didn't pull away either.

"I forgave you for that a long time ago."

"How?" he asked, sounding for all the world like a child who couldn't understand what he was being told.

She leaned back enough to catch his eyes, her hands resting on his shoulders.

"It wasn't easy. And I couldn't do it on my own. It took time and the grace of God, but I don't blame you for that anymore." She cupped his face in her hands, her thumbs gently wiping away his tears. "If they had been meant to live, they would have, in spite of what happened in that mine. But they didn't. God took them home. And it would have happened no matter what, if not in that mine, then some other way. It took me a long time to accept that, but it's true. It was their time."

She hugged him again, and this time, he returned the embrace, almost clinging to her like a lifeline.

"Thank you," he breathed with so many years of relief in his voice that Abigail could fairly feel it herself.

Had he been holding in all of that guilt and anguish all this time? Had it been eating at him all these years? Abigail couldn't imagine carrying that kind of burden around, especially for so long.

He trembled slightly in her arms, his breath hitching.

"It's all right," she murmured, running her fingers gently through his hair. "It's going to be okay."

They stood there for several long moments as Henry gradually got a handle on his emotions. Finally, he slowly pulled away, and she reluctantly let him go.

He wiped at his face, his eyes averted, embarrassed again. She rolled her eyes. Men.

"Henry, why did you kiss me that night?"

"I- What?" Henry stuttered, his full attention snapping to her as the question caught him completely off guard.

"If you believed you didn't deserve me and that you didn't have the right, then why did you kiss me?"

"I... Because..." he trailed off, as if trying to find any answer that wasn't the real one. The one they'd been dancing around for weeks now.

"Why, Henry?" she pushed, not giving him an inch on this one. "Am I some fun plaything for you? A passing fancy?"

"No!" Henry asserted vehemently. "Absolutely not!"

"Because I'm pretty, then?"

"No. I mean, yes! I mean," he stammered, his expression growing more frantic and on edge, "that's not the reason."

"Then why? Huh?" She moved close to him, causing him to scramble backward until he was trapped between her and the mantle, her entire demeanor forceful, demanding, giving him no room to escape, either mentally or physically. "Why? Say it. Right now!"

"Because I love you!" he yelled, his gaze almost desperate, like an animal backed into a corner. His chest heaved with panting breaths and fear shone in his eyes. When he next spoke, his voice trembled and dropped to the barest whisper. "I love you, Abigail."

She smiled softly, her eyes shining with all the love she felt for him.

"Well, it's about time," she said. Reaching up, she rested one hand on his chest as the other caressed his cheek. "And for the record, I love you too, Henry."

Henry's expression was so dumbfounded, so incredulous, that Abigail couldn't help but laugh. Oh, that man. He couldn't be any more adorable to her.

The awed smile that slowly spread across his face as her declaration fully sank in, was more than enough to light up her whole day.

And as his arms wrapped around her, and their lips met for the second time, Henry didn't even think about running away.

He was so glad he came back here.

* * *

 **A/N So? What did you guys think? I'm always a sucker for happy endings, and this was no exception. However, I am sad to say this is the last full chapter. There will be a short epilogue, and due to the consensus from you guys, there will also be a separate one-shot that takes place a few months after this story, so were not completely done with Henry and Abigail yet. Stay tuned and, as always, let me know what you think! :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Epilogue**

Henry took a deep breath to steady his nerves as his hand hovered over the doorknob of the church. Turning it, he stepped inside to see Frank, broom in hand, idly sweeping the floor.

He really didn't want to have this conversation, but he had to. He owed it to Frank after how everything had played out.

Still standing in the doorway, he cleared his throat and Frank looked up.

"Henry," he greeted, not sounding cold, but not sounding particularly excited or happy either.

Stepping fully into the church and closing the door behind him, Henry shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat again, unable to fully meet the preacher's eyes.

"Frank... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he said.

Frank sighed and set aside the broom. He took a few steps closer to Henry and leaned against the end of one of the pews. "Just tell me something. Did you plan it? Did you come up with some strategy and sneak around with the intention of stealing her from me?"

"What? No!" Henry vehemently denied, the question cutting him to the core. "I didn't even fully realize I had feelings for her until that night, and even if I had, I knew she was with you... I had no intention of ever acting on them. It... It just happened. I didn't mean for it to. And I never wanted to hurt anyone," he finished softly, guilt washing through him anew. As much as he loved Abigail, he had never wanted to win her like this.

Frank sighed. "I know. Which is why I'm not angry at you."

"Wait. What?" he asked incredulously, fully meeting Frank's eyes for the first time since coming there.

"I'm not angry at you, Henry," Frank repeated. "I can't deny that it did hurt, but I know neither of you set out to betray me or be duplicitous. You fell in love. That's not something you can plan or choose. As for the kiss... Well, I could see for myself that, that wasn't planned."

Henry winced. "I'm sorry you saw that."

Frank shrugged and shook his head as his eyes briefly glanced toward the cross at the front of the church. "It was for a reason." He met Henry's gaze again. "I needed to see it to fully realize. It wasn't meant to be. Abigail and I cared about each other, but it wasn't what you two have. It wasn't that deep, pure kind of life-altering love that just creeps up on you without you even noticing. I cared about her, and I always will, but I'm not who God intended for her. I know that. As much as I don't like it, as much as it hurts, I know it's true."

"I just wish you hadn't gotten caught in the crossfire of all of this," Henry said. "I wish..." he trailed off, eyes dropping to the floor.

"Wish what?" Frank asked gently.

"I wish it hadn't cost me your friendship," Henry admitted.

Frank laughed. Actually laughed.

Henry's head snapped up as he looked at the pastor in confusion and a slight amount of concern.

"Henry, you haven't lost my friendship."

"What?" Henry asked for the third time in as many minutes.

"I admit, I have some emotions that'll take time to work through, but I don't hate you Henry, and I'm not going to turn my back on you over this. If I did that, I wouldn't be much of a pastor. You see, I can't punish you for something that God himself orchestrated. And only God could have worked all of this out the way it has." He smiled slightly. "I'm going to need some time to sort it all out, but I told Abigail this, and I'll tell you. I'm here for you, as a pastor and a friend."

"Thank you, Frank. I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for that. And it goes both ways," Henry said earnestly. "Always."

When he offered his hand to the preacher, he was overjoyed when Frank took it without hesitation.

Henry couldn't believe it. How could he be so fortunate to have a friend like this? He couldn't believe everything that had happened since his return to Hope Valley. The friendships he'd gained, the love he'd found. It boggled his mind and was so much more than he ever could have hoped or dreamed.

"Take care of her," Frank said.

"You can bet on it," Henry said vehemently.

As he began to turn to leave, his eyes caught on the cross hanging at the front of the church. The same one he'd looked at so many times over the past months, and that meant so much to him now.

 _Thank you,_ he silently prayed, overcome with so many emotions, the chief among them overwhelming, humbling gratitude that someone, anyone could love him enough to bless him with so much, especially after everything he'd done.

 _Thank you._

 **The End**

* * *

 **A/N And there you have it, the epilogue. The last little loose end I felt needed tying up. Now this story is officially complete. There will still be that one-shot I mentioned, which should be up sometime within the next week, so keep an eye out for that. And while you're waiting, feel free to leave a review on this story one last time. :)**


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